FORTUNES  fQ1 

OF  A  PARTI  SAM  m    ol 


E,B. SMITH  m  GO. 


C.C, 

1877       1 


cm 


CANOLLES: 


FORTUNES  OF  A  PARTISAN  OF  '81 


BY  JOHN  E8TEN  COOKE. 


DETROIT: 
E.    B.    SMITH   &   COMPANY. 

1877. 


Copyright  by 
JOHN  ESTEN  COOKE. 

isrr. 


CANOLLES: 

THE  FORTUNES  OF  A  PARTISAN  OF  '81. 


I. 

UNDER    THE    MOON. 

On  a  May  evening  in  the  year  1781,  just  as  the  sun 
had  disappeared,  a  man  riding  a  powerful  black  horse 
emerged  from  the  great  morass  known  as  the  "  White 
Oak  Swamp  "  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Chickahom- 
iny,  in  Virginia,  and  went  at  a  long  steady  gallop 
in  the  direction  of  James  River. 

An  hour's  ride  brought  him  in  sight  of  a  large  and 
imposing  house.  This  house,  known  time  out  of  mind 
as  "  Chatsworth,"  fronted  southward  toward  the  river, 
from  which  it  was  separated  only  by  a  sloping  lawn 
and  a  low  fence,  and  a  single  glance  showed  that  it 
had  once  been  the  residence  of  a  man  of  great  posses- 
sions. The  facade  was  long  and  elegantly  decorated, 
the  portico,  extending  the  entire  length  of  the  build- 
ing, was  reached  by  a  broad  flight  of  stone  steps,  and 
through  the  trees  to  the  right  and  rear  were  seen 
extensive  stables,  outhouses  and  servants'  quarters. 
Over  the,  gateways  were  armorial  devices  in  stone;  the 
garden  fell  in  terraces,  ornamented  with  edgings  of 
box ;  the  place,  it  might  be  seen,  had  once  been  splen- 

985798 


4  CANOLLES. 

did.  But  now  all  things  were  going  to  decay.  The 
sward  was  overgrown  with  weeds,  the  fences  were 
falling,  the  outhouses  and  quarters  were  deserted,  and 
some  plaster  had  fallen  from  the  ceiling  of  the  porch 
and  lay  where  it  fell.  Everywhere,  in  the  house,  the 
grounds,  the  inclosures,  were  the  evidences  of  poverty 
and  neglect. 

The  man  coming  from  the  White  Oak  Swamp  made 
a  circuit,  and  halting  his  horse  in  a  little  clump  of 
trees  not  far  from  the  front  of  the  house,  remained  for 
some  time  looking  at  it  in  silence.  He  was  appa- 
rently from  twenty-five  to  twenty-eight,  rather  low  in 
stature,  broad-shouldered,  and  wore  a  nondescript  cos- 
tume, half  that  of  a  civilian,  half  that  of  a  soldier. 
There  could  be  little  doubt,  however,  that  the  latter 
was  his  true  character.  From  his  holsters  protruded 
a  pair-  of  horseman's  pistols,  and  around  his  waist  was 
buckled  a  strong  leather  belt,  sustaining  a  heavy 
broadsword.  His  air  above  all  was  that  of  the  soldier 
— cool,  resolute  and  commanding.  His  face,  not  un- 
handsome, but  bronzed  by  sun  and  wind,  had  a  pecu- 
liarly phlegmatic  expression — that  of  a  man  not  likely 
to  be  surprised  or  daunted  by  anything — but  with  this 
phlegm  was  mingled  both  pride  and  melancholy.  The 
motionless  figure  seemed  to  suit  the  scene  and  the  hour. 
The  last  flush  of  sunset  had  faded  in  the  west;  above 
the  tree  tops  glimmered  faintly  now  a  thin  crescent 
moon  slowly  sailing  through  diaphanous  clouds ;  the 
murmur  of  the  great  stream  came  like  a  lullaby  through 
the  deepening  gloom,  and  the  walls  of  Chatsworth 
looked  ghostly  in  the  dim  moonlight. 


UNDER    THE    MOON.  O 

"Well,"  mattered  the  horseman,  "I  have  come  on 
an  errand  which  will  probably  result  in  nothing;  yes, 
that  will  be  the  result.  And  yet  I  must  hold  this 
interview.  I  wonder  if  the  fair  one  will  insult  me  very 
grossly  ?  Doubtless. " 

He  threw  a  keen  glance  around  him,  as  though  recon- 
noitering  from  habit,  and  touching  his  horse  with  the 
spur,  rode  up  and  dismounted  in  front  of  the  house. 
An  old  horse-rack,  leaning  from  age,  stood  near,  but 
the  man  did  not  tie  his  horse  there.  He  led  the  animal 
to  an  abandoned  outhouse  in  the  rear,  where  a  door 
stood  open,  concealed  him  in  the  building,  and,  return- 
ing to  the  front  of  the  house,  went  up  the  broad  steps 
and  knocked. 

A  light  had  just  appeared  in  the  apartment  to  the 
right,  and  at  the  sound  made  by  the  falling  of  the  great 
bronze  knocker,  a  shadow  was  thrown  upon  the  tar- 
nished lace  curtain  at  one  of  the  windows  ;  the  shadow 
remained  stationary  for  a  moment,  then  it  disappeared, 
then  a  step  was  heard  in  the  hall,  and  a  voice  said  be- 
hind the  door : 

"  Who  is  that?  " 

"  A  friend,"  was  the  reply  of  the  man. 

"  What  friend  ?" 

"  If  Miss  Talbot  will  open  she  will  discover,"  said 
the  man.  "  An  enemy  would  find  little  difficulty  in 
forcing  an  entrance." 

There  was  a  short  silence.  Then,  as  though  the 
logic  of  the  speaker  had  produced  conviction,  the  door 
opened,  and  the  light  from  the  room  fell  upon  the 
horseman. 


6  CANOLLES. 

'"You,  sir!  "  exclaimed  the  person  who  had  opened 
— a  young  lady — "  you  here,  sir  ?  " 

"  Myself,  madam,"  said  the  stranger  coolly. 

"  Your  business  ?  " 

"  To  prove  myself  the  friend  of  Mrs.  Talbot  and  her 
nieces. " 

"Indeed!'" 

She  was  about  to  add  something  more  to  this  chill 
exclamation,  but  apparently  changing  her  mind  turned 
her  back  and  swept  with  a  haughty  air  back  into  the 
room,  which  was  occupied  by  an  elderly  lady  and  a 
young  girl.  The  apartment  had  about  it  the  same  air 
of  past  splendor  seen  in  the  exterior  of  the  mansion. 
The  walls  were  heavily  wainscoted  in  rich  paneling, 
but  the  woodwork  had  warped  and  shrunk.  The  cor- 
nices were  superb,  but  in  many  places  had  fallen. 
The  marble  mantle-piece  had  cracked  from  side  to  side. 
The  gilding  of  the  portrait  frames  had  nearly  disap- 
peared, and  the  once  fine  carpet  was  in  rags.  Some 
old  carved-back  chairs,  an  antique  center-table  on 
which  burned  a  single  candle  in  a  silver  candlestick, 
and  a  rug  in  holes,  were  all  the  furniture. 

The  elderly  lady,  who  was  knitting  with  tremulous 
fingers,  wore  a  frilled  cap,  a  black  dress,  and  a  white 
handkerchief  which  passed  around  her  neck  was  se- 
cured by  an  ancient  breastpin  in  the  front.  Beyond 
these  commonplace  externals  there  was  nothing  to  at- 
tract in  her  appearance.  The  younger  persons  were 
more  striking.  The  one  who  had  admitted  the  visitor 
was  about  twenty-five — tall,  dark-haired,  dressed  with 
what  might  be  called  tarnished  elegance,  but  undenia- 


UNDER    THE    MOON.  7 

bly  a  beauty.  The  eyes  were  dark  and  penetrating, 
and  the  complexion  superb ;  but  the  fair  face  was 
spoiled  by  an  expression  of  discontent  and  ill-humor, 
which  had  ripened  into  positive  scorn  and  anger,  now 
as  the  stranger  entered.  Her  companion  was  appa- 
rently about  nineteen,  and  quite  different  in  appear- 
ance ;  her  hair  of  a  rich  brown,  her  eyes  blue,  her  face 
of  a  pure  oval,  and  her  figure  petite  and  slender.  Her 
dress  was  as  simple  as  her  companion's  was  pretentious, 
and  the  bodice,  with  its  long  waist  and  opening  at  the 
neck  in  the  fashion  called  "  Marie  Stuart/'  distinctly 
outlined  an  exquisitely  maidenly  figure.  In  face  and 
form  there  was  an  indefinable  grace  and  freshness;  the 
girl  had  about  her  that  indescribable  something  sought 
to  be  expressed  by  the  word  feminine.  She  seemed 
made  to  love  and  be  loved — to  confide  and  be  confided 
in.  The  brilliant  eyes  of  the  elder  dazzled  and  repelled 
a  little  —  the  dove's  eyes  of  the  younger  drew  you. 
And  these  opposing  characters  were  seen  even  in  their 
positions  and  attitudes.  The  elder  sat  with  head  erect 
in  the  full  blaze  of  light,  looking  coldly  straight  at  the 
new  comer.  The  younger  occupied  a  low  seat  nearly 
in  the  shadow,  near  the  mantle-piece,  her  head  dropped 
a  little,  and  she  stole  from  beneath  her  long  lashes  a 
searching  glance  at  the  visitor. 

He  advanced  into  the -centre  of  the  room,  bowed, 
and  remained  standing. 


CANOLLES. 


II. 

WHAT    TOOK    PLACE    ON    A    MAY   NIGHT. 

The  stranger  remained  thus  erect  and  motionless  for 
some  moments,  leaning  one  hand  on  the  center  table, 
and  looking  thoughtfully  around  him,  especially  at 
the  old  portraits,  whose  eyes  seemed  to  fix  themselves 
upon  him  in  the  dim  light.  From  this  fit  of  absence 
he  was  now  aroused  abruptly. 

"Well,  sir?"  said  the  elder  young  lady,  flirting  her 
train  around  with  evident  irritation. 

The  stranger's  eyes  fell  from  the  portrait,  and  he 
looked  at  her — coolly,  but  with  a  lurking  expression 
of  satire  on  his  swarthy  face. 

"  You  would  say,  madam,  that  it  is  time  for  me  to 
explain  the  object  of  my  visit?" 

"  Yes  sir!" 

"  An  unwelcome  one,  apparently,  at  least  to  yourself 
personally,  madam." 

"  As  you  please,  sir ! " 

He  looked  at  the  young  lady  with  grim  interest,  and 
said,  coolly : 

"  My  object  in  visiting  Chatsworth  this  evening,  Miss 
Talbot,  is  to  inform  you  that  this  place  is  no  longer  safe 
for  unprotected  ladies,  and  to  counsel  you  to  leave  it." 

"  You  are  very  good,  sir  ! "  was  her  almost  scornful 
reply,  "  and  where  shall  we  go  ?" 

"  To  the  house  of  some  friend  in  the  upper  country." 


WHAT    TOOK    PLACE    ON    A    MAY    NIGHT. 

"  We  are  unprotected  ladies,  as  you  say.  How  are  we 
to  take  this  journey  without  an  escort?" 

She  looked  straight  at  him  as  she  spoke,  and  evi- 
dently waited  for  and  anticipated  his  reply  : 

"  I  am  at  your  service,  madam,  and  that  of  your 
aunt  and  sister,  if  you  desire  it." 

The  reply  came  back  as  suddenly  as  a  blow  : 

"I,  for  one,  sir,  prefer  the  tender  mercies  of  the 
British  to  placing  myself  under  your  protection." 

Again  the  expression  of  grim  interest  came  to  the 
stranger's  face  ;  he  exhibited  no  other  indication  of  any 
feeling  whatever. 

"  So  be  it,  madam,"  he  said  quietly;  "  it  is  for  you  to 
decide  in  a  matter  that  concerns  yourself.  The  times 
are  troubled.  Gen.  Phillips  is  within  a  few  miles  of 
you  on  his  way  to  Petersburg,  and  Lord  Cornwallis  is 
advancing,  and  will  soon  arrive.  These  gentlemen  are 
gentlemen,  but  troops  are  hard  to  control.  The  horse- 
men of  Col.  Tarleton,  especially,  are  said  to  be  an  unruly 
set.  With  or  without  justice  they  are  stigmatized  as 
robbers  and  marauders ;  and  marauders,  permit  me  to 
add,  madam,  are  bad  visitors  for  unprotected  ladies." 

The  elder  young  lady — who  alone  took  part  in  the 
colloquy — had  listened  to  these  wrords  with  an  expression 
of  distain,  amounting  to  insult.  At  the  word  marauders 
however,  she  suddenly  raised  her  head  and  iixed  a  pair 
of  flashing  eyes  upon  the  stranger. 

"  Marauders,  did  you  say,  sir  ?  Colonel  Tarleton  a 
marauder  ? " 

"  His'  troops  at  least  bear  that  repute,  madam, 
whether  deserved  or  not." 


10  CANOLLES. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  lady,  with  a  curl  of  her  beautiful 
lip,  "  has  it  never  occurred  to  you  that  there  are  other 
marauders  in  this  war  besides  Colonel  Tarleton?" 

"  Doubtless  there  are  such,  madam,"  was  the  cool 
reply. 

"  Persons,"  continued  the  lady,  flushing  with  scorn 
and  anger,  "  persons  who  are  neither  Americans  nor 
British,  neither  friends  nor  enemies,  who  prey  on  all 
indiscriminately — who,  actuated  solely  by  a  base  love 
of  gold,  by  a  low  passion  for  plunder — " 

She  paused,  panting.  All  at  once  the  younger  sister 
rose  to  her  feet.  Her  face,  too,  was  burning  and  her 
eyes  flashing. 

"  For  shame,  sister! "  she  exclaimed,  "  to  thus  return 
kindness  by  insult — to  meet  the  offer  of  friendship  with 
such  bitter  words,  such  words  as  no  lady  should  address 
to  a  gentleman  !  " 

The  elder  turned  her  head  and  stared  at  the  speaker 
with  as  much  astonishment  as  wrath. 

"Indeed,  Miss!"  she  exclaimed  with  a  sort  of  ex- 
plosion, "  when  will  you  speak  again  ?  I  am  to  be 
lectured  and  directed  in  what  I  am  to  say  by  you!  " 

"  I  do  not  lecture  you ;  but  you  have  no  right  to  speak 
thus.  You  do  not  speak  for  me.  You  shall  know  that 
at  least." 

Before  the  astounded  elder  sister  could  reply  the 
stranger  took  three  steps  forward,  raised  the  hand  of 
the  younger  to  his  lips,  bowing  as  he  did  so,  and  said 
in  a  low  voice  : 

"  Thanks,  Fanny  ! " 


WHAT    TOOK    PLACE    ON    A    MAY    NIGHT.  11 

He  then  turned  to  the  elder  and  said,  with  perfect 
composure : 

u  Madam  expresses  herself  so  plainly  that  it  is  im- 
possible to  misunderstand.  I  at  least  do  not.  But  I  am 
losing  time.  My  proposition  is  refused,  I  see.  So  be  it. 
I  beg  to  take  my  leave  now,  as  I  have  far  to  ride  to- 
night." 

He  bowed,  exchanged  a  long  look  with  the  younger 
sister,  still  erect,  flushed  and  beautiful  in  her  indigna- 
tion, and  slowly  left  the  room.  As  he  disappeared  he 
looked  over  his  shoulder — this  time  at  the  old  portraits 
on  the  wall,  especially  at  that  of  a  very  beautiful  woman. 
As  he  did  so,  an  expression  of  melancholy  tenderness 
came  to  his  face,  and  a  breath  resembling  a  sigh  escaped 
from  his  lips. 

He  wrent  out  of  the  house,  walked  in  the  dim  light  of 
the  crescent  moon  to  the  out-building  where  his  horse 
was  concealed,  and  was  about  to  mount,  when  the 
trample  of  hoofs  was  heard  approaching  up  the  river's 
bank. 

The  stranger  concealed  himself  in  the  outhouse,  and 
looked  and  listened. 

Suddenly  a  troop  of  about  twenty-five  mounted  men 
swarmed  into  the  grounds,  and  a  person  evidently  in 
command  leaped  to  the  ground,  throwing  his  bridle  to 
one  of  the  men,  and  knocked  at  the  door.  The  stranger 
stole  from  tree  to  tree,  and  had  just  come  in  sight  of 
the  door,  when  it  was  opened,  and  the  light  fell  on  the 
person  who  had  knocked.  He  was  a  young  man  wear- 
ing the  uniform  of  an  English  lieutenant  of  cavalry,  and 
a  sound  like  a  low  scream  was  heard  from  the  house. 


CANOLLES. 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,  madam,"  came  in  response  to 
the  scream,  "  there  is  no  reason  whatever  why  you 
should  be.  I  am  aware  that  there  are  none  but  ladies 
here,  and  only  beg  that  I  may  rest  a  moment." 

He  turned  to  the  troop,  ordering  "  Keep  your  ranks 
— let  no  man  stir." 

With  which  words- he  entered. 

The  stranger,  concealed  in  the  shadow  of  a  large 
oak,  remained  motionless  for  about  a  minute.  Then  he 
seemed  to  form  a  sudden  resolution.  Stealing  in  the 
same  cautious  manner  from  tree  to  tree,  he  gained  the 
rear  of  the  house,  silently  went  to  a  small  porch  at  the 
back  door,  raised  a  window  noiselessly  and  as  silently 
entered  an  apartment  in  rear  of  that  which  he  had  just 
left. 

All  his  movements  had  indicated  a  perfect  knowl- 
edge of  the  localities,  and  he  now  stole  toward  the  door 
between  the  two  apartments,  through  the  key-hole  of 
which  a  long  ray  entered  the  dark  room. 

Placing  himself  at  this  key-hole,  and  alternately  ap- 
plying his  eye  and  his  ear,  he  looked  and  listened,  and 
what  he  saw  and  heard  from  his  place  of  concealment 
we  shall  proceed  to  describe. 


WHAT    THE    LISTENER    OVERHEARD.  13 


CHAPTER  III. 

WHAT    THE    LISTENER    OVERHEARD. 

The  British  officer — a  young  man  of  about  twenty- 
five,  slender,  with  light  hair,  a  joyous  expression,  and 
clad  in  a  rich  uniform  covered  with  gold  braid — was 
standing  in  the  middle  of  the  apartment,  his  plumed  hat 
in  his  hand. 

The  ladies  had  risen  -and  were  trembling. 

"  I  beg  you  will  dismiss  apprehension  of  annoyance 
from  myself  or  my  command,  madam,"  he  said,  in  a 
frank,  gay  voice,  addressing  Mrs.  Talbot,  "  and  will  re- 
sume your  seats.  I  am  Lieutenant  Ferrers,  of  the 
British  cavalry,  and  if  you  have  ever  heard  of  me  you 
must  have  heard  that  I  am  not  a  very  dangerous  visitor 
to  ladies." 

The  ladies  sat  down ;  the  officer  remained  standing. 

"  I  have  the  pleasure,  I  believe,  of  seeing  the  family 
of  Colonel  Cartaret?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  elder  of  the  young  ladies,  speak- 
ing for-  the  rest  as  in  the  interview  with  the  stranger. 

"  Ah,  then  I  was  misinformed,"  returned  the  smiling 
young  officer.  "  Is  not  the  name  of  this  estate  Chats- 
worth,  the  former  residence  of  Colonel  Cartaret,  who 
espoused  the  English  side  when  the  present  war  broke 
out?'7 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  young  lady,  who  had  recov- 
ered her  calmness,  and  even  began  to  direct  the  artil- 


14  CANOLLES. 

lery  of  her  beautiful  eyes  upon  the  officer,  "  this  is 
Chats  worth,  but " 

"  Ah  !  I  understand  now.  You  would  say,  madam, 
that  you  are  neither  relatives  of  Col.  Cartaret  nor 
sympathizers  in  his  political  views." 

"  We  are  cousins  only." 

"And  good  American  sympathizers,  doubtless!" 
came  in  the  same  gay  tone.  "Well,  that  is  natural,  and 
I  am  far  from  attributing  any  fault  to  you  for  being 
such !  The  fact  is  unimportant,  and  I  am  myself  no 
very  savage  partisan.  Partisan  !  The  word  reminds 
that  I  am  on  a  little  expedition  to  hunt  up  one  of  these 
same  gentry ;  but  now  since  you  are  good  patriots, 
ladies,  I  cannot  ask  you  to  assist  me." 

"To  assist  you,  sir?  In  what  manner?"  said  the 
young  lady. 

"  By  giving  me  information.  To  be  plain,  madam,  I 
am  looking  for  a  certain  Capt.  Canolles,  chief  of  a  band 
of- — well,  marauders,  I  may  call  them.  Can  you  tell 
me  where  I  can  find  this  Canolles?"  he  added,  laughing. 

Canolles,  listening  within  a  few  feet  of  the  speaker — 
for  the  stranger  secreted  in  the  adjoining  room  was  that 
personage — waited,  with  a  grim  smile  on  his  lips,  for 
the  young  lady's  reply.  It  came  promptly. 

"  He  was  in  this  room  a  quarter  of  an  hour  ago." 

"  In  this  room  ? "  exclaimed  the  officer,  turning 
quickly  toward  the  door. 

"  But  it  is  useless  to  pursue  him.  He  is  miles  away 
by  this  time." 

"  He  is  your  friend,  perchance  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed  ! " 


WHAT    THE    LISTENER    OVERHEARD.  15 

"Your  enemy?" 

The  young  lady  hesitated.     Then  she  said  coldly : 

"  Everything  connected  with  that  person  is  a  subject 
of  perfect  indifference  to  me  ! " 

"  Ah  !  I  see,  madam.  Despite  your  patriotic  views 
you  cannot  approve  of  Capt.  Canolles — a  mere  marau- 
der.'7 

"  Who  could  ?  " 

"  You  are  right,  madam.  He  is  said  to  fight  under 
no  flag,  to  have  no  end  in  view  but  booty,  and  even  to 
rob  both  sides  alike." 

"  That  is  his  reputation." 

"  A  strange  character.     Who  and  what  is  he  ?" 

"  Ask  him,  sir !  "  suddenly  came  from  the  young 
sister,  and  the  officer  turned  quickly,  with  a  smile  on 
his  lips. 

"  Right,  right !  "  he  said,  "  and  I  hope  soon  to  have 
an  opportunity  to  address  the  question  to  him.  To  be 
frank,  ladies,"  he  went  on  in  the  same  gay  tone,  "  Gen. 
Phillips,  in  whose  command  I  have  the  honor  of  serv- 
ing, desires  particularly  to  lay  his  hands  on  this  worthy 
Canolles.  On  the  General's  first  expedition  up  the 
river  one  of  his  sailing  vessels  was  boarded  in  the  night 
not  far  from  this  spot  and  the  crew  overpowered  before 
assistance  could  reach  them.  Unfortunately  the  vessel 
contained  a  considerable  sum  to  pay  off  the  troops,  and 
this  was  carried  off." 

"Doubtless  by  the  person  you  are  in  search  of,"  said 
the  tall  young  lady. 

"Yes,  madam.  The  vessel  was  set  on  fire,  after  the 
crew  were  turned  loose  in  the  boats,  and  they  reported 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


16  CANOLLES. 

that  they  had  heard  the  marauder  addressed  by  his 
men  as  Capt.  Canolles." 

Canolles,  listening  attentively,  came  near  uttering  a 
low  laugh. 

"  A  daring  affair,"  the  smiling  young  officer  went 
on,  "  and  perfectly  within  the  rules  of  honorable  war- 
fare, if  these  men — they  are  called  "Rough  Riders/'  I 
believe — fought  under  the  American  flag.  But  they 
had  no  flag  whatever,  I  am  informed.  So  the  General 
would  be  extremely  glad  to  have  an  interview  at  his 
headquarters  with  the  Captain." 

"  In  which  laudable  desire  you  aim  to  gratify  him, 
sir!"  came  from  the  smiling  lips  of  the  elder  of  the 
young  ladies,  who  continued  to  reply  to  the  officer. 
She  had  not  ceased  to  direct  toward  him  the  same 
flashing  glances — brilliant,  provoking,  far  from  hos- 
tile— and  it  was  easy  to  see  that  the  young  Briton  was 
more  and  more  struck  by  her  beauty. 

"  Allow  me  to  admire  your  penetration,  madam  !  " 
he  went  on  in  his  former  tone.  "  The  General  ardently 
longs  to  see  this  same  Canolles,  and  even  has  another 
motive.  He  is  on  his  way  from  Brandon  to  Peters- 
burg— has  some  more  money  under  convoy — and  we 
naturally  have  a  nervous  apprehension  that  the  worthy 
Canolles  will  attempt  to  lay  his  hands  on  that  also, 
since  booty  is  his  game  and  the  main  chance  of  his 
object  in  warfare." 

Canolles.  looking  and  listening  through  the  keyhole, 
lost,  suddenly,  his  expression  of  grim  enjo}^ment,  and 
bent  close,  with  an  ardent  light  in  his  eyes.  The  con- 


WHAT    THE    LISTENER    OVERHEARD.  17 

versation  had  evidently  assumed  anew  and  far  stronger 
attraction  for  him. 

"  There  is  no  danger,  I  trust,"  said  the  lady,  "  of 
another  such  robbery.  Gen.  Phillips  is  then  on  his 
way  to  Petersburg?  There  was  such  a  rumor." 

"  Oh,  it  is  no  secret,  madam,  and  I  may  inform  you 
of  the  fact  without  scruple.  Perhaps  I  was  less  justi- 
fiable in  speaking  of  the  gold  which  the  general  con- 
voys with  him.  That  was  somewhat  imprudent." 

"  Imprudent,  sir?  " 

The  officer  laughed. 

"  You  may  give  information  of  the  fact  to  General 
Lafayette,  who  is  not  far  distant,  or — " 

The  officer  paused,  again  laughing. 

"  Or  some  one  may  be  concealed  here — listening. 
In  that  room,  for  instance." 

He  pointed  to  the  room  in  the  rear. 

"  Oh,  if  that  is  your  only  fear,  sir,  you  are  at  liberty 
to  satisfy  yourself." 

The  officer  took  two  steps  toward  the  door.  Ca- 
nolles,  bending  close,  did  not  move ;  but  lie  quietly 
stole  his  hand  to  the  hilt  of  his  broadsword. 

"  Have  I  your  permission  to  look,  madam  ?"  said  the 
young  officer.  "  Pardon  me,  but  war  is  an  unceremo- 
nious trade." 

"  You  are  perfectly  at  liberty,  sir,  although  that 
room  has  long  been  unused,  arid  the  door,  I  think,  is 
locked." 

"  Do  you  give  rne  your  word  that  no  one  is  concealed 
there?" 

"  My  word  of  honor,  sir." 
2 


18  CANOLLES. 

'The  officer  came  back. 

"  That  is  enough,  madam.  I  should  be  ungallant, 
indeed,  to  doubt  an  assurance  issuing  from  such  lips." 

A  glance  of  unmistakable  admiration  accompanied 
these  words,  and  the  person  to  whom  they  were  ad- 
dressed bashfully  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"  I  may  add,"  said  Lieut.  Ferrers,  "  that  even  if 
what  I  have  said  came  to  Gen.  Lafayette's  ears  it  would 
prove  of  no  advantage  to  him.  The  convoy  is  strongly 
guarded,  moves  with  the  army,  and  it  would  prove 
utterly  impossible  to  capture  it,  even  if  the  attempt 
were  made  by  a  corps  d'armee." 

The  young  officer  bowed,  put  on  his  hat  and  added: 

"  I  now  beg  to  take  my  leave,  ladies.  The  boats  in 
which  I  crossed  will  be  in  danger  if  I  do  not  return  by 
daylight.  I  propose  to  scout  toward  the  swamp  in 
which  our  Capt.  Canolles  makes  his  den,  I  am  inform- 
ed; and  as  he  moves,  it  is  said,  by  night  on  his  march- 
es, I  may  succeed  in  having  an  interview  with  him. 
Believe  me,  that  another  interview — that  which  I  have 
had  the  pleasure  to  hold  this  evening  already — has  been 
highly  agreeable  " — the  look  of  admiration  was  repeat- 
ed— "  and  I  shall  always  think  of  Chatsworth  with 
pleasure.  Excellent  Col.  Cartaret!  I  had  the  honor  to 
know  him — a  perfect  gentleman,  acting  from  sincere 
convictions,  and  dead  now  in  exile.  That  is  sad,  but 
war  is  always  a  sad  affair.  He  had  a  son,  he  told  me, 
in  the  American  army ;  he  spoke  of  him  with  great 
tenderness.  But  I  must  take  my  leave,  ladies.  I  have 
not  asked  you  to  inform  me  where  I  should  find  our 
Capt.  Canolles,  nor  what  his  errand  here  was  this 


WHAT    THE    LISTENER    OVERHEARD.  19 

evening.  If  good  fortune  serves  me  I  shall  cross 
swords  with  him  to-night." 

The  young  lieutenant  then  bowed,  went  out  of  the 
room,  and  was  heard  ordering  "  attention  !"  Then  his 
sabre  clanked  against  the  stirrup  as  he  mounted. 

He  had  scarcely  left  the  apartment  when  Canolles, 
holding  up  his  long  broadsword  carefully  to  avoid  be-, 
ing  heard,  noiselessly  retired,  passed  through  the  win- 
dow in  the  rear,  and  stealing  toward  the  outhouse  in 
which  his  horse  awaited  him,  leaned  against  a  tree 
trunk  and  saw  the  British  troopers  slowly  defiling  out 
of  the  grounds,  the  dusky  figures  dimly  visible  in  the 
faint  light  of  the  crescent  moon. 

When  they  had  disappeared  he  mounted  his  black 
horse,  leaped  the  low  fence  in  rear  of  the  house  and 
set  off  swiftly  in  the  direction  of  White  Oak  Swamp. 


20  CANOLLES. 


CHAFER  IV. 

IN    THE    WHITE    OAK    SWAMP. 

"  White  Oak  Swamp  "  is  a  great  morass  extending 
from  a  point  northeast  of  Richmond,  along*  the  western 
bank  of  the  Chickahominy  to  the  boundary  of  Charles 
City,  and  nearly  to  the  banks  of  James  River.  It  is 
a  strange  weird  tract — the  home  of. the  venomous  moc- 
casin, and  the  melancholy  whippoorwill,  whose  cry 
comes  from  the  far  depths  like  that  of  some  mysterious 
guardian  of  the  swamp.  All  here  is  solemn  and  de- 
pressing. The  almost  impenetrable  thickets  bar  all 
advance.  The  ground  is  slimy  and  treacherous.  You 
place  your  feet  upon  a  prostrate  log,  and  it  suddenly 
turns.  You  attempt  to  pass  an  open  space  apparently 
of  greensward,  and  you  sink  to  your  waist  or  your  horse 
to  his  girth.  Tangled  vines  festoon  the  trees,  from 
which  you  are  saluted  by  the  unearthly  laughter  of  the 
owl — tall  flags  wave  their  broad  blades  above  the  ooze, 
from  which  comes  the  threatening  hiss  of  reptiles. 
Sad  and  sorrowful  by  day,  this  swamp  is  strange  and 
menacing  at  night.  To  move  through  it  even  by  day 
is  difficult,  to  penetrate  it  by  night  an  utter  impossi- 
bility, unless  to  a  person  familiar  with  every  foot  of  the 
path  over  which  he  advances. 

Canolles  reached  the  edge  of  the  dreary  tract,  riding 
at  a  long  gallop,  and  disappeared  in  its  depths.  The 
moon  gave  scarcely  any  light,  but  he  seemed  to  make  his 


IN    THE    WHITE    OAK   SWAMP.  21 

way  steadily  and  surely,  picking  his  path  without  hesi- 
tation, and  guided,  it  seemed,  by  the  north  star  glitter- 
ing through  the  tangled  foliage  overhead. 

He  went  on  thus  for  about  half  an  hour.  Then  he 
emerged  on  an  open  space,  beyond  which  a  dull-looking 
entrance  of  slimy  water  stretched.  He  crossed  the 
space,  reached  the  dull  expanse,  and  at  a  peculiar  cry 
stopped  and  repeated  it.  A  third  cry  came  ;  he  at  once 
plunged  into  the  water,  and  in  a  few  moments  reached  a 
sort  of  island  of  considerable  extent,  where  a  group  of 
about  twenty  men  of  the  most  outlandish  appearance 
were  gathered  around  a  blaze.  In  the  background  were 
seen  a  number  of  half  subterranean  huts,  built  of  boughs 
plastered  with  mud.  Kear  these  huts  were  tethered  to 
the  stunted  trees  as  many  horses  as  there  were  men. 

Canolles  made  a  sign  to  a  person  wTho  seemed  second 
in  command,  and,  retiring  with  him,  held  a  rapid  con- 
sultation. The  two  then  returned,  and  at  a  low  order 
from  Canolles  the  men  hastened  to  their  horses  and 
mounted.  This  manoeuvre  was  effected  so  rapidly  that 
in  two  minutes  the  troop  was  in  line ;  and  placing  him- 
self at  the  head  of  the  column,  Canolles  led  the  way 
back  over  the  route  by  which  he  had  come. 

Defiling  slowly  and  silently  through  the  swamp — a 
band  of  phantoms  apparently  in  the  dim  light — the 
Rough  Riders  at  last  reached  firm  ground  ;  and  then,  at 
an  order  from  their  captain,  who  led  the  way,  set  for- 
ward in  an  easterly  direction  at  a  swift  gallop.  The 
hoof  strokes  of  the  horses  made  no  noise  in  the  sandy 
road,  and  no  word  was  uttered  by  any  one  in  the  troop. 
In  an  hour  a  faint  glimmer  in  front  indicated  that  they 


22  CANOLLES. 

were  approaching  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  at  a  move- 
ment of  the  hand  from  Canolles  the  men  halted. 

Canolles  then  went  forward  alone,  his  horse  walking 
slowly.  He  was  following  the  road  moving  from  a  well- 
known  ferry  to  Chats  worth,  and  soon  discovered  that  his 
calculations  were  correct.  Lieut.  Ferrers  must  have 
landed  at  this  point;  and  there  before  Canolles,  as  he 
cautiously  drew  near  the  bank,  were  the  large  flatboats 
in  which  the  British  troopers  had  been  ferried  across. 
A  brief  reconnoissance  showed  that  only  a  few  men  had 
been  left  to  guard  the  boats,  and  returning  silently  to 
his  command,  Canolles  ordered  them  to  move  forward. 

In  five  minutes  the  few  men  at  the  boats  had  been 
captured,  and  the  boats  were  in  possession  of  the  partisan, 
who  ordered  his  troops  to  dismount  and  embark  with 
their  horses.  This  was  rapidly  done — the  prisoners 
were  also  placed  on  board — and  the  boats  then  moved 
silently  from  shore,  breasting  the  broad  current  which 
shone  in  the  dim  light  of  the  setting  moon. 

The  chances  seemed  to  be  that  Lieut.  Ferrers  would 
not  enjoy  his  desired  interview  on  this  night  with  Capt. 
Canolles,  who  having  the  choice  presented  to  him  of 
crossing  sabres  on  the  north  bank  of  James  River  with 
the  young  Englishman,  or  going  in  pursuit  of  the  trea- 
sure under  convoy  of  the  British  troops  on  the  south 
bank,  unhesitatingly  made  choice  of  the  latter. 

In.  a  few  moments  the  boats,  crowded  with  the  dusky 
figures  of  men  and  horses,  were  lost  in  the  darkness. 
Then  the  splash  of  the  paddles  slowly  died  away  in  the 
distance,  and  finally  no  sound  disturbed  the  silence  but 
the  subdued  murmur  of  the  great  stream  singing  its 
low  song  in  the  calm  spring  night. 


FERRERS    ROUSES    THE    WRONG    GAME.'  23 


CHAPTER  V. 

FERRERS    ROUSES    THE    WRONG   GAME. 

The  boats  containing  Canolles  and  his  horsemen  had 
just  disappeared  in  the  darkness,  through  which  glim- 
mered the  faint  light  of  the  setting  moon,  when  quick 
shots  were  heard  in  the  distance  above  Chats  worth,  on 
the  banks  of  the  river;  the  sound  drew  nearer;  then 
came  shouts,  the  clash  of  sabres,  the  trample  of  hoofs, 
and  suddenly  the  shore  swarmed  with  the  troops  of 
Lieut.  Ferrers,  with  a  force  of  American  cavalry  close 
upon  their  heels. 

The  aim  of  the  British  troops  was  evidently  to  gain 
their  boats.  Seeing  that  they  had  disappeared  the  men 
lost  hope,  called  aloud  for  quarter,  and  in  spite  of  every 
attempt  made  by  Lieut.  Ferrers,  threw  dbwrn  their  arms. 

At  this  spectacle,  Ferrers  uttered  a  volley  of  exple- 
tives, and  driving  his  horse  with  the  spur  violently 
through  the  chaotic  mass  huddled  on  the  bank,  crossed 
sabres  with  the  leader  of  the  Americans,  coming  on  with 
long  leaps  of  his  horse  in  front  of  his  men.  He  was  a 
young  man  of  about  twenty-three,  and  bore  the  most 
astonishing  resemblance  to  Canolles,  except  that  his  face 
was  fresher  and  more  youthful  and  his  expression  gay 
and  impulsive.  He  wore  the  uniform  of  an  American 
lieutenant  of  cavalry,  was  plainly  an  excellent  horseman, 
and  meeting  Ferrers  full  tilt  crossed  sabres,  and  a  hand- 
to-hand  fight  ensued.  How  it  would  have  ended  it  is 


24  CANOLLES. 

difficult  to  say,  as  they  seemed  equally  matched.  A 
third  person  decided  the  result.  This  was  an  American 
trooper,  who  seized  Ferrers  from  behind,  dragged  him 
from  the  saddle,  and  in  an  instant  the  young  English- 
man was  beneath  the  trampling  hoofs  of  the  horses, 
exposed  to  imminent  peril  of  his  life.  So  great  indeed 
was  this  peril,  that,  brave  as  the  young  man  was,  he 
closed  his  eyes,  when  he  suddenly  felt  an  arm  around 
him,  and  he  was  lifted  to  his  feet.  He  opened  his  eyes, 
looked  at  the  person  who  had  thus  rescued  him  from 
being  trampled  to  death,  and  saw  that  it  was  the  young 
American  officer. 

Then  this  quick  dialogue  ensued: 

"  You  are  in  command  of  this  force,  sir  ?  "  said  the 
American. 

"  Yes/'  returned  Ferrers. 

"  Surrender,  then.  You  are  overpowered.  It  is  not 
your  fault,  for  my  force  is  double  your  own:  Order 
your  men  to  surrender,  sir  ! " 

"Surrender!  cursed  word!"  exclaimed  the  young 
Englishman  with  a  rueful  laugh.  But  he  gave  the 
order,  and  then  shaking  himself  as  though  to  recover 
from  his  stunning,  added  : 

"You  are  Capt.  Canolles?" 

"Canolles?     No." 

"Who  then  ?  Your  name  and  rank,  that  I  may  at 
least  know  whose  prisoner  I  am." 

"  My  name  is  Henry  Cartaret,  and  I  am  Lieutenant 
of  the  Virginia  Light  Horse." 

"  Henry  Cartaret!"  exclaimed  the  young  Englishman. 

"  Yes." 


FERRERS    ROUSES    THE    WRONG    GAME.  25 

"  Cartaret,  of  Chats  worth." 

"  Once,"  was  the  rather  sad  reply. 

"  The  son  of  Col.  Henry  Cartaret,  who  left  Virginia 
at  the  beginning  of  the  war?" 

"  He  was  my  father." 

Ferrers  seized  the  young  American  by  the  hand  and 
shook  it  heartily. 

"  So  you  are  really  Harry  Cartaret,  of  whom  I  have 
heard  your  father  speak  ?  I  knewT  him  well  and  loved 
him  as  much  as  I  respected  him,  which  was  a  great  deal. 
Glad  to  make  your  acquaintance,  Harry  ! — though 
never  was  such  a  devilish  introduction  ! " 

The  gay  youngster  rubbed  his  shoulder,  which  had 
been  bruised  in  his  fall,  and  added  with  his  light  laugh, 
which  seemed  to  defy  trouble  : 

"  Who  would  have  dreamed  of  my  falling  into  such 
a  trap  to-night ! — first  the  bad  luck  of  meeting  a  force 
double  my  own,  and  then  my  boats  gone  !  Who  under 
heaven  could  have  extracted  them  ?  I'd  have  made  a 
stand  and  got  off,  my  dear  Cartaret,  but  for  this  cursed 
ill  luck  !  Well,  well,  it  is  the  fortune  of  war.  Some 
good  fellow  of  your  party  now  in  our  hands  will  be 
benefited  when  I'm  exchanged.  Then  I'll  be  after  you, 
perhaps,  and  catch  you  napping — patience,  and  shuffle 
the  cards?" 

The  two  young  fellows  laughed  like  schoolboys,  and 
half  an  hour  afterward  Lieut.  Harry  Cartaret  and  Lieut. 
Tom  Ferrers  were  riding  along  amicably  towards  Gen. 
Lafayette's  headquarters,  followed  by  the  American 
troops  in  charge  of  the  prisoners. 


26  CANOLLES. 

As  they  passed  Chatsworth  Ferrers  said,  with  the 
laugh  which  nothing  seemed  able  to  suppress: 

"  You  were  not  concealed  there  to-night  ?" 

"  Concealed?" 

"  Yes,  in  that  room  in  the  rear?" 

"  What  room  ?  " 

"  And  they  gave  you  no  warning — did  not  put  you 
on  my  track?" 

"  Who  ?  I  had  no  warning.  I  met  your  force  by 
pure  accident  as  I  was  returning  from  a  scout." 

"  Oh  !  well,  then,  the  devil's  in  it.  I  am  the  victim  of 
bad  luck,  and  against  bad  luck  no  fellow  can  light? 
But  I'm  glad  they  did  not  betray  me — especially  that 
tall  one — she's  a  beauty." 

"  The  tall  one?" 

"  I  mean  the  taller  of  the  two  young  ladies  at  Chats- 
worth." 

"Oh!  Eleanor  Talbot?" 

"  Do  you  know  her  ?  " 

"  She  is  my  cousin." 

"  Well,  my  dear  Harry,  you  see  I  knew  your  father, 
who  liked  me  too,  and  I  feel  like  a  friend  of  the  family, 
which  makes  me  unceremonious — well,  all  I  have  to 
say  is  that  you've  a  devilish  handsome  cousin  !  " 

"  You  have  seen  her  ?  " 

"I  called  this  evening,  in  pursuit  of  a  certain  Can- 
olles.  By  the  by,  who  is  Canolles  ?  The  ladies  seemed 
acquainted  with  him." 

The  laughing  face  of  Harry  Cartaret  grew  sad. 

"  He  is  a  person  about  whom  there  are  many  and 
conflicting  reports,"  he  said. 


FERRERS    ROUSES   THE   WRONG   GAME.  27 

"  Very  well.  But  suppose  we  come  across  him  to- 
night?" 

"  Come  across  him  ?  " 

"  Yes.7' 

"What  then?" 

"  He  may  attack  you." 

"  Attack  me  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  He  is  said  to  make  war  on  his  own 
responsibility — to  fight  against  both  sides  and  to  have 
no  flag  but  his  own." 

Cartaret  gravely  shook  his  head  and  replied : 

"  He  will  not  attack  me." 

"  Are  you  certain  of  that  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  certain." 

"  And  why  should  he  not  ?  " 

"  I  may  tell  you  some  day — I  cannot  tell  you  now." 

"  Oh,  pardon  me,  my  dear  fellow.  I'm  afraid  IVe 
been  indiscreet." 

"No  indiscretion  at  all,  believe  me,"  returned  Car- 
taret. 

"  And  so  I  am  not  to  be  rescued  !  "  laughed  Ferrers. 
"  I  see  I  must  give  up  all  hopes  of  that  dramatic  scene  ! 
Think  what  a  farce  it  would  be  !  I  cross  the  river  to 
beat  up  the  quarters  of  the  worthy  Canolles — you  and  I 
meet  each  other — you  take  me  prisoner — but  before  you 
can  reach  headquarters  with  your  valuable  capture, 
presto  !  change !  Canolles  appears  upon  the  scene,  and 
rescues  from  your  clutches  the  very  person  who  came 
to  hunt  him  !  Ha  !  ha  !  " 

Cartaret  laughed  in  reply,  and  the  young  men  rode 


28  CANOLLES. 

on  side  by  side  in  gay  talk,  with  the  air  rather  of  old 
friends  than  chance  acquaintances. 

Meanwhile  Canolles  crossed  the  river,  formed  his 
men  in  column,  and  was  silently  advancing  through  the 
darkness  toward  the  camp  of  Gen.  Phillips,  on  the  Pe- 
tersburg road.  His  information  was  thorough  and  mi- 
nute. A  cocked  pistol  and  the  promise  of  a  heavy  sum 
in  gold  had  acted  upon  one  of  the  men  captured  with 
the  boats.  Canolles  knew  where  to  find  a  wagon  con- 
taining ten  thousand  pounds  sterling,  and  seemed  to 
have  made  up  his  mind  to  have  it  in  spite  of  Gen. 
Phillips  and  his  whole  army. 


THE    SPUING   OF    1781.  29 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    SPRING   OF    1781. 

At  the  opening  of  our  narrative  the  curtain  had  just 
risen  on  the  great  fifth  act  of  the  Revolutionary  drama. 

Beginning  at  Concord  six  years  before,  the  war  had 
steadily  drifted  southward.  The  thunder  of  cannon 
had  rolled  on  from  Boston  to  Long  Island,  then  to  the 
banks  of  the  Delaware,  then  to  the  environs  of  Phila- 
delphia, then  to  the  Carolinas,  and  now  Lord  Corn- 
wallis,  after  marching  and  counter-marching,  advancing 
and  retreating,  through  the  swamps  and  rice  fields,  was 
coming  to  open  the  last  campaign  of  the  war  on  the 
soil  of  the  Old  Dominion. 

Virginia  had  been  spared  in  a  great  measure  the 
ravages  of  wrar  in  her  own  dominion,  but  now  the 
heavy  hand  was  to  fall  upon  her  in  her  turn.  The  con- 
flict on  her  soil  had  opened  with  January,  1781,  when 
Arnold,  with  about  one  thousand  men,  chiefly  royalists 
brought  from  the  north,  advanced  to  Richmond,  burned 
a  part  of  the  place,  laid  waste  the  surrounding  region, 
and  then,  hotly  pressed  by  the  brave  Gen.  Nelson,  in 
command  of  the  Virginia  militia,  had  retreated  to 
Portsmouth,  where  he  awaited  further  orders  from  his 
British  employers. 

His  orders  came  in  April,  but  the  British  officers,  who 
regarded  him  with  ill-concealed  disdain,  were  spared 
the  mortification  of  again  marching  under  him  as  their 


30  CANOLLES. 

commander.  Gen.  "William  Phillips  was  assigned  to 
lead  the  English  column,  which  now  ascended  James 
River  toward  Petersburg.  The  force  sailed  up  the 
river,  landed  at  City  Point,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Appo- 
mattox,  pushed  forward  to  Petersburg,  and  the  place 
was  attacked  and  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  British  in 
spite  of  hot  resistance  from  the  Americans  under 
Baron  Steuben. 

Then  opened  on  the  party  of  James  River  a  brief 
and  animated  episode  of  the  war.  Arnold  was  sent  to 
Osbornes,  a  village  on  the  river,  where  he  attacked  and 
destroyed  a  small  American  fleet,  burning  and  captur- 
ing two  thousand  hogsheads  of  tobacco,  then  a  species 
of  currency.  Meanwhile  Phillips,  whom  Arnold 
hastened  to  join,  advanced  northward  to  Manchester, 
opposite  Richmond ;  attempted  to  cross  ;  discovered 
that  Lafayette  had  arrived  on  the  day  before  and  was 
ready  to  fight  him  ;  retired ;  descended  the  right  bank 
of  the  river  to  Bermuda  Hundred,  burning  on  his  way 
the  thriving  town  of  Warwick,  a  larger  place  than 
Richmond  and  an  important  post,  and  embarked  again 
for  Portsmouth. 

It  was  on  this  expedition  that  an  American  prisoner 
is  said  to  have  made  his  historic  response  to  Gen. 
Arnold. 

"  If  the  Americans  should  catch  me,"  asked  Arnold, 
"  what  would  they  do  with  me  ?  " 

"  They  would  bury  with  military  honors  the  leg 
which  was  wounded  at  Saratoga/'  replied  the  prisoner, 
"  and  hang  the  remainder  of  you  on  a  gibbet." 

Before  reaching  Portsmouth,  Gen.  Phillips  was  met 


THE    SPRING   OF    1781.  31 

by  a  boat  bringing  him  orders  to  retrace  his  steps — 
Lord  Cornwallis  was  on  his  march  and  would  form  a 
junction  with  him  at  Petersburg. 

This  was  on  May  the  6th.  Three  days  afterwards, 
that  is  to  say  on  May  the  9th,  Gen.  Phillips  had  re- 
ascended  James  River,  reached  Brandon  on  the  southern 
shore,  landed  his  troops  there,  and  was  rapidly  ad- 
vancing to  again  seize  upon  Petersburg,  where  Lord 
Cornwallis  was  daily,  almost  hourly,  expected. 

It  was  now  a  race  between  Phillips  and  Lafayette 
which  should  first  reach  the  place.  The  brave  young 
Frenchman  had  been  assigned  by  Washington  to  the 
command  of  the  American  forces  in  Virginia — had 
made  a  forced  march  of  200  miles  to  reach  Richmond ; 
arrived  in  time  to  protect  the  place,  and  rightly  sup- 
posing that  the  reappearance  of  Phillips  in  the  upper 
waters  of  James  River  meant  Petersburg  and  the 
junction  with  Lord  Cornwallis,  hastened  toward  the 
threatened  point  to  occupy  the  town  and  prevent  the 
union  there  of  the  English  armies. 

This  brief  and  rapid  summary  of  the  state  of  things 
toward  the  middle  of  May,  1781,  will  inform  the  reader 
of  the  surroundings  of  the  various  personages  of  this 
narrative  :  Lord  Cornwallis  advancing  steadily  from  the 
south  in  the  direction  of  Petersburg,  Gen.  Phillips 
pushing  on  from  Brandon  to  form  a  junction  with 
him,  and  General  the  Marquis  Lafayette  hurrying  from 
Richmond  as  fast  as  he  could  drag  his  cannon  in  the 
direction  of  Petersburg  to  occupy  the  town,  and  with 
his  right  hand  stretched  toward  Cornwallis  and  his  left 
toward  Phillips,  hold  them  asunder. 


32  CANOLLES. 

We  return  now  to  our  narrative,  which  aims  to  pre- 
sent rather  a  series  of  pictures  and  portraits  than  to 
record  historic  events. 

This  was  the  situation  of  the  pieces  on  the  great 
chess-board  of  war  when  the  gay  young  Englishman, 
Lieut.  Ferrers,  crossed  James  River  near  "  Chats- 
worth  "  to  scout  along  the  northern  bank  in  the  direc- 
tion of  White  Oak  Swamp,  with  the  object  which  we 
have  heard  him  state,  and  when  the  worthy  Capt. 
Canolles,  chief  of  Rough  Riders,  and  fighting  under 
no  flag  but  his  own,  overheard  the  object  which  his 
enemies  had  in  view,  declined  the  challenge,  and  seiz- 
ing the  boats  in  which  Ferrers  had  crossed,  went  on  a 
far  more  business-like  errand  to  the  south  bank — which 
errand,  as  the  reader  must  have  surmised,  was  to  beat 
up  the  quarters  of  Gen.  Phillips,  and  seize  upon  his 
ten  thousand  pounds  sterling. 


CANOLLES    REAPPEARS.  33 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CANOLLES    REAPPEARS. 

It  was  the  morning  of  the  10th  of  May,  1781— the 
day  after  the  scene  just  described. 

The  long  harsh  thunder  of  cannon  shook  the  hills  on 
which  the  town  of  Petersburg  stood  ;  and  the  brilliant 
sunshine  flashed  back  from  burnished  gun-barrels, 
bayonets  and  scarlet  uniforms  swarming  on  the  wide 
plateau  on  the  outskirts  of  the  eastern  suburb  of 
"  Blandford,"  which,  with  "  Pocahontas  "  on  the  north 
bank,  formed  the  village,  town  or  borough  of  Peters- 
burg. 

Gen.  Phillips  had  distanced  his  adversary.  Knowing 
how  much  depended  upon  the  occupation  of  Peters- 
burg, the  English  commander  had'not  lost  a  moment 
on  the  march,  had  pushed  forward  from  Brandon  as 
soon  as  his  troops  landed,  and  late  at  night  had  entered 
Petersburg,  just  as  the  vanguard  of  Lafayette  was  ap- 
proaching the  spot  from  the  northward. 

With  the  dawn  came  the  roar  of  cannon.  Lafayette 
had  posted  his  artillery  on  Archer's  Hill,  an  eminence 
on  the  north  bank  of  the  river,  opposite  the  town; 
opened  on  the  English  camps  in  the  direction  of  Bland- 
ford,  and  hour  after  hour  the  long  roar  of  the  Ameri- 
can cannon  continued,  to  which  the  British  guns  re- 
plied. 

Let  us  now  follow  the  fortunes  of  one  of  the  chief 
3 


34  CANOLLES. 

personages  of  this  history,  whose  fate  it  was  to  become 
better  acquainted  with  the  English  commander  than  he 
probably  desired  to  be. 

"  Bollingbrook  "  was  the  handsome,  broad-winged, 
low-pitched  mansion  of  the  wealthy  McBolling,  crown- 
ing one  of  the  Blandford  hills.  In  the  main  apart- 
ment of  this  house,  a  room  of  considerable  size  and 
furnished  with  the  utmost  taste  and  even  luxury,  a 
man  of  middle  age,  clad  in  the  undress  uniform  of  a 
British  Major-General,  was  lying  upon  a  couch,  and 
breathing  heavily.  Every  detail  of  the  personal  ap- 
pearance of  this  individual  indicated  pride,  and  a 
haughty  and  unbending  disposition.  It  was  not  an 
unattractive  face,  otherwise  ;  and  plainly  that  of  a  man 
of  birth  and  breeding.  Thomas  Jefferson  wrote  of 
him  that  he  was  "  the  proudest  man  of  the  proudest 
nation  on  earth, "  and  his  impression  certainly  did  not 
belie  his  character.  This  was  Major-G-eneral  William 
Phillips,  commander  of  the  English  forces  in  Virginia. 

He  was  plainly  the  victim  of  a  bilious  fever.  His 
face  was  flushed,  his  breath  came  in  gasps,  and  when 
the  rush  of  the  American  shell  was  heard  passing  over 
the  house,  he  muttered  in  hoarse  and  labored  accents : 

"  Why  won't  they  let  me  die  in  peace  ?  " 

Opposite  the  couch  sat  a  tall  officer  apparently  above 
sixty.  His  appearance  was  striking.  His  face  was  of 
a  uniform  red,  arid  his  hair  and  mustache — he  wore  no 
beard  or  whiskers — was  snow-white.  His  command- 
ing stature,  curt  and  unceremonious  bearing,  and  non- 
chalant tone  of  voice,  best  described  by  the  word  grunt, 
stamped  him  as  a  peculiar  individual.  You  might  see 


CANOLLES    REAPPEARS.  35 

that  Col.  Lord  Ferrers — for  that  was  the  officer's 
name — cared  for  nothing  or  nobody,  was  a  sort  of 
high-hred  Diogenes,  of  a  cynical  turn,  not  without  a 
dash  of  humor,  and  was  an  intimate  friend  of  the 
British  commander,  for  they  addressed  each  other  in 
the  most  informal  manner. 

Phillips  breathed  heavily,  and  from  time  to  time 
turned  restlessly  on  his  couch. 

"  Why  did  I  ever  come  to  this  wretched  country, 
Ferrers ?"  he  groaned.  "I  am  burnt  up  with  fever 
contracted  in  the  marshes  around  that  hole,  Ports- 
mouth !  My  pulse  seems  on  fire  !  I  have  a  presenti- 
ment that  I  shall  die  of  this  attack.'7 

"  Nonsense !"  grunted  Lord  Ferrers ;  "  but  you  are 
right  about  the  country.  Never  was  such  a  damnable 
region  on  the  face  of  the  globe !" 

"  And  then  to  have  that  man  Arnold  for  my  second 
in  command!"  continued  Phillips,  feverishly. 

"  Cursed  traitor  !  Sold  his  country — or  tried  to — 
for  ten  thousand  pounds — the  canaille!"  returned 
Ferrers. 

"  And  this  canaille,  as  you  rightly  call  him,  will  be 
your  commander  when  I  die." 

"Hope  you  won't  die,  Phillips!  Arnold  command 
me!  I  would  rather  have  the  devil  himself  over  me." 

The  English  commander  breathed  heavily. 

"And  then  this  last  and  crowning  enemy  ! — to  have 
my  money  chest  a  second  time  seized  under  my  very 
nose  by  this  bandit  Canolles — the  very  man  who 
boarded  my  tender  and  robbed  me  before.  Was  there 
ever  such  an  insolent  or  successful  affair?  Lucky.jl 


36  CANOLLES. 

have  one  satisfaction.  The  leader  of  the  gang — Ca- 
nolles  himself — is  in  my  hands,  and  he  shall  hang  or 
have  a  bullet  through  him  before  to-morrow.7' 

"  Right — highwaymen  take  the  risks — Canolles  lights 
under  no  flag,  I'm  told.  What  were  the  particulars? 
I  was  in  the  advance,  and  have  heard  none  of  the  de- 
tails." 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  took  place  in  a  very  few  words. 
I  had  halted  the  troops  within  a  mile  or  two  of  this 
place — the  vanguard  having  entered  and  taken  posses- 
sion, as  you  know — when  the  detachment  guarding 
the  baggage  wagon  was  attacked  while  asleep  in  biv- 

O  O     O  O  JL 

ouac,  the  men  cut  down  as  they  sprang  to  arms,  and 
the  money  chest  carried  off  before  the  alarm  was  given 
to  the  rest  of  the  army.  A  more  daring  affair  I  never 
heard  of;  and  the  leader  of  the  gang — Rough  Riders 
they  call  themselves — must  have  proceeded  on  sure  in- 
formation, obtained  I  know  not  how  or  where." 

"  Ask  him,  as  you  have  hold  of  this  same  leader. 
How  was  he  caught  ? " 

"  While  fighting  with  desperation.  The  money  was 
first  hurried  off — unluckily  it  was  in  a  number  of  small 
sacks,  gold  and  Bank  of  England  notes — and  then 
Canolles  faced  about  with,  a  part  of  his  command,  made 
charge  after  charge  to  cover  his  retreat — his  men  all 
got  off — and  their  leader  would  no  doubt  have  been  as 
successful,  but  his  horse  was  shot  under  him,  fell,  and 
before  he  could  extricate  his  feet  from  the  stirrups  in 
which  his  spurs  had  become  entangled,  he  was  seized 
and  made  prisoner." 

"  A  brave  fellow,  at  least." 


CANOLLES    REAPPEARS.  37 

"  A  robber!  A  common  thief!  Fighting  under  no 
flag!" 

"Well,  that's  ugly — devilish  ugly!"  grunted  Fer- 
rers, "  and  the  rascal  must  hang,  I  .suppose.  The 
money  is  clean  gone,  eh  ?  " 

"Every  penny!  The  marauders  vanished  like  so 
many  phantoms  in  the  darkness." 

"  They  were  pursued  ?  " 

"  Of  course — and  the  detachment  sent  in  pursuit 
came. up  with  them,  or  rather  in  sight  of  them,  as  they 
crossed  the  river." 

"  You  mean  the  Appomattox  ?  " 

"Yes.  There  was  just  light  enough  from  the  stars 
to  see  them  swimming  their  horses  in  the  middle  of 
the  stream.  They  landed  near  Bermuda  Hundred,  and 
no  doubt  found  some  means  to  cross  James  River  to 
White  Oak  Swamp,  where  this  Virginia  swamp  fox 
kennels  with  his  booty." 

"Well,"  said  Ferrers,  "of  all  the  cursed,  devilish, 
unlucky  contretemps  that  I  ever  heard  of,  this  is  the  most 
diabolical.  I  was  going  to  send  to  the  paymaster  this 
very  morning  for  my  pay — not  a  penny  in  my  purse — 
and  here  all  the  gold  is  gone  !  It  is  necessary  to  hang 
that  man,  Phillips!  No,  don't  hang  him.  He's  a 
brave  scoundrel.  Shoot  him  like  a  soldier.  Never  be 
harsh  on  a  game  highwayman  like  that!  " 

"I  will  consider.  First,  however,  for  an  interview. 
I  must  know,  or  endeavor  to  discover,  where  he  ob- 
tained his  information  in  regard  to  the  convoy." 

"  I  should  like  to  hear.  The  fact  is,  the  affair  is 
interesting.  This  Can  oil  es  must  be  a  desperado, 


38  CANOLLES. 

indeed,  to  attack  the  whole  British  army  with  a  hand- 
ful of  men.  I  owe  him  a  personal  spite  for  carrying 
off  my  pay,  but " 

"  To  say  nothing  of  the  paj^  of  the  troops — they  are 
already  grumbling.  But  I'll  have  him  here  before 
detailing  the  squad  to  shoot  him." 

Gen.  Phillips  summoned  an  orderly  and  directed 
that  Canolles  should  be  brought  to  headquarters.  He 
then  turned  to  Col.  Ferrers,  and  said : 

"  By  the  by,  where  is  your  nephew  ?  Was  he  not 
sent  to  scout  along  the  north  bank  of  the  James! " 

"  Yes,  to  hunt  up  this  same  Canolles.  They  must 
have  crossed  each  other — while  he  was  after  Canolles, 
Canolles  was  after  us  !  " 

A  low  laugh  curled  the  white  mustache  of  Ferrers. 
It  was  easy  to  see  that  his  indignation  at  being  robbed 
of  his  pay  was  tempered  by  grim  admiration  of  the 
pluck  of  the  robber. 

For  some  moments  the  artillery  fire  had  begun  to 
slacken,  and  it  nowr  died  into  silence. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  that?"  said  the  General, 
whose  feverish  face  became  more  and  more  flushed. 

"  Our  friends  yonder  seem  tired,  or  their  ammunition 
has  given  out." 

"Summon  a  staff  officer  and  let  us  ascertain,  Fer- 
rers." 

He  was  saved  the  trouble.  An  officer  entered  at  the 
moment  and  announced  that  a  flag  of  truce  had  just 
crossed  the  river  in  a  boat,  and  that  in  the  boat  he  had 
recognized  young  Lieutenant  Ferrers. 

"  The   devil   you  did  !  "    exclaimed    Lord    Ferrers. 


CANOLLES    REAPPEARS.  39 

"  So  the  rascal  Tom  has  been  caught,  eh  ?  Serves  him 
right," 

"  Meet  the  flag/'  said  Gen.  Phillips,  "  and  ascertain 
its  object,  Do  not  stand  on  technical  forms — there's 
nothing  to  conceal  here.  Bring  the  flag  to  head- 
quarters. Some  courtesy  of  Lafayette  is  under  this, 
and  no  one  shall  say  that  William  Phillips  allowed 
himself  to  be  surpassed  even  by  a  Marquis." 

The  officer  saluted  and  left  the  room.  At  the  same 
moment  an  orderly  entered,  touched  his  hat,  and  said : 

"Here  is  the  prisoner  you  sent  for,  General." 

"Canolles?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Bring  him  in ;  let  the  guard  remain  outside." 

A  moment  afterwards  Canolles  was  ushered  into  the 
apartment. 


40  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE     EXAMINATION. 

Cariolles  entered  with  a  firm  tread,  his  frame  erect, 
and  his  whole  bearing  indicating  no  emotion  whatever. 

"  The  rascal's  a  soldier,  at  all  events ! "  muttered 
Ferrers ;  "  he  must  have  nerve  to  look  like  that  with  a 
rope  around  his  neck." 

Gen.  Phillips,  with  lowering  brows,  his  face  growing 
more  and  more  feverish,  said  in  a  husky  voice : 

"  You  are  the  person  who  attacked  my  convoy  last 
night?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Canolles. 

"  Your  name  is  Canolles  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  You  are  an  American  officer  ?  " 

"  I  might  tell  you  that  I  am — I  should  tell  a  false- 
hood. I  am  not." 

"  You  are  not  an  American  officer,  sir,  and  do  not 
fight  under  the  American  flag  ?  " 

"  I  do  not." 

"  Under  what  flag  then  do  you  fight,  in  Heaven's 
name?" 

"  Under  my  own." 

Gen.  Phillips  knit  his  brows,  and  fixed  his  eyes 
sternly  upon  the  cool  face — eyes  burning  with  fierce 
and  growing  wrath,  but  not  destitute  of  an  expression 
of  respect  for  the  prisoner's  courage. 


THE    EXAMINATION.  41 

"  I  need  not  inform  you,  sir,"  he  said  coldly,  "that 
the  words  you  have  just  uttered  are  your  own  death- 
warrant." 

Canolles  slightly  inclined  his  head. 

"  I  know  that  perfectly  well,  General." 

"  And  still  you  have  uttered  them  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  might  say  that  I  fight  under  the  Virginia 
flag — here  it  is " — he  drew  from  his  breast  a  small 
square  of  silk,  on  which  was  painted  the  Virgin  of  the 
Virginia  shield,  "hut  such  a  plea,  I  am  aware,  would 
be  absurd  in  your  eyes,  since  England  makes  war  on 
the  American  States,  not  on  the  State  of  Virginia." 

"Diable!"  uttered  Ferrers,  "a  cool  hand,  if  there 
ever  was  one  !  " 

And  seeing  that  G-en.  Phillips  was  too  faint  or  too 
indignant  to  continue  the  interrogatory,  he  said: 

"Let  me  question  the  prisoner,  General — I  am  really 
anxious  to  ascertain  his  views  and  theory  in  making 
war  on  his  Majesty." 

Canolles  shook  his  head. 

"  I  regret  not  to  be  able  to  enlighten  you  on  that 
point,  Colonel." 

"  You  decline  to  clear  up  the  mystery,  then  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Humph  ?  "  grunted  Lord  Ferrers,  "  that's  queer. 
You  must  have  an  object." 

"  I  have." 

"Which  you  will  die  without  accomplishing." 

"  No;  it  will  be  accomplished." 

"  Hey  !  accomplished  ?     My  friend,  you  are  jesting." 

"  I  am  in  earnest." 


42  CANOLLES. 

Col.  Ferrers  suddenly  rose  in  his  chair,  and  said  : 

"  That  gold  you  carried  off  accomplishes,  then,  your 
object  in  making  your  private  war?  " 

"  Precisely,  Colonel." 

Ferrers  turned  to  Phillips  and  said  : 

"  General,  you  hear !  Of  all  the  mysteries  that  ever 
were  heard  of! — but  there  is  something  under  "this 
that  Pd  like  to  fathom !  " 

"  Conduct  the  examination  as  you  think  best,"  said 
Phillips,  breathing  heavily,  "  I  am  really  too  ill  to  take 
any  part  in  it." 

"Very  well — and  so,  my  friend,"  said  Ferrers  to 
Canolles,  "  you  have  your  own  ends  in  view.  You 
have  declared  war  on  Great  Britain  on  your  private 
account.  This,  to  say  the  least,  is  irregular  in  a  mili- 
tary point  of  view — and  yet  you  persist  in  concealing 
your  motive.  Why  not  fight  under  the  Continental 
flag?" 

"  I  am  not  a  soldier  of  that  army." 

"  And  that  is  not  your  flag  ?  " 

"  I  have  said  that  it  was  not." 

"  You  decline  further  explanation  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Colonel." 

"  Then  there's  no  more  to  say,  and  I  regret  to  inform 
you,  my  friend,  that  there  can  be  but  one  course  to 
pursue  in  your  case." 

Canolles  again  inclined  his  head. 

"  You  regard  me  as  a  common  highwayman, 
Colonel,"  he  said;  "  so  be  it — I  have  at  least  the  heart 
of  a  soldier,  and  I  speak  to  a  soldier.  Your  bullets  do 
not  frighten  me." 


THE    EXAMINATION.  43 

"  Good — spoken  like  a  man.  Gold  or  no  gold — pay 
or  no  pay — at  least  you  shall  not  hang  if  I  can  prevent 
it,  but  die  the  death  of  the  cool  fellow  you  are." 

A  third  time  Candles'  slightly  moved  his  head.  His 
color  had  never  blanched,  and  his  eye  retained  its 
steady  and  unmoved  expression. 

"  A  last  word,"  said  Lord  Ferrers,  "  as  to  a  matter 
rather  of  curious  interest  than  of  any  importance.  You 
must  have  obtained  the  most  accurate  and  reliable  in- 
formation as  to  the  wagon  containing  the  gold  last 
night.  Now,  curiosity  is  one  of  my  foibles.  I  have  said 
that  you  should  die  a  soldier's  not  a  highwayman's 
death  if  I,  George  Ferrers,  have  a  say  in  the  matter. 
Well,  relieve  my  curiosity.  Who  gave  you  your  infor- 
mation in  regard  to  the  money  chest  ?  " 

Canolles  looked  fixedly  at  him. 

"  You  are  Col.  Lord  Ferrers  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  A  relative  of  Lieut.  Ferrers,  who  was  scouting  on 
the  north  bank  of  the  James  River  last  night  ?  " 

"  His  uncle.  But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  the 
attack  you  made  on  the  convoy  and  the  seizure  of  the 
gold,  which,  I  assure  you,  was  a  devilish  disagreeable 
occurrence  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  inasmuch  as  I  am 
therefore  deprived  of  my  pay." 

A  grim  smile  touched  the  face  of  Canolles — these 
two  cool  personages,  accustomed  to  laugh  under  all 
perils,  seemed  to  understand  each  other,  and  might 
have  been  suspected  of  being  father  and  son. 

"  I  ask  if  you  are  related  to  Lieut.  Ferrers,  for  a 
single  reason,"  said  Canolles. 


44  CANOLLES. 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  The  person  who  gave  me  the  information  of  the 
convoy  was  Lieut.  Ferrers." 

As  Canolles  uttered  these  words  the  door  opened  and 
Lieut,  Ferrers  entered  the  apartment. 


THE    LIKENESS.  45 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    LIKENESS. 

Col.  Ferrers,  losing  sight  for  the  moment  of  the 
singular  statement  of  Canolles,  greeted  his  nephew 
with  a  satirical  laugh  and  a  grunt. 

"  So  you  were  caught,  were  you,  my  young  popin- 
jay ?  "  he  said.  "  How  did  that  come  about,  and  what 
brings  you  back  so  soon  ?  " 

But  Lieut,  Ferrers  seemed  scarcely  to  hear  the  words. 
Jle  was  looking  with  an  expression  of  the  utmost 
astonishment  at  Canolles. 

"  Who  is  this,  uncle  ?  "  he  said. 

"  The  prisoner  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  this  is  the  gentleman  whom  you  expected  in 
the  innocence  of  your  youthful  and  confiding  disposi- 
tion to  catch  napping  last  night  in  the  direction  of 
White  Oak  Swamp  !  " 

The  young  man  replied  by  a  bewildered  look  which 
evidently  excited  the  elder's  amusement. 

"  You  went  out  to  shear,  and  came  back  shorn,  it 
seems,  Monsieur,  my  nephew,  as  they  say  in  delightful, 
devilish  Paris  !  You  went  to  capture  Canolles,  and 
were  captured  yourself." 

"  And  this  person —  ?  " 

"Is  Canolles  in  person." 

"  Canolles  ?  " 


46  CANOLLES. 

"  The  very  man,  though  you  seem  to  doubt  it." 

"  Impossible !  " 

"  Why  is  it  impossible  ?  " 

"  Capt.  Canolles  is,  or  has  the  reputation  of  being,  a 
common  plunderer.  And  this  man — good  Heavens ! 
What  an  astonishing  likeness  !  " 

"  A  likeness  of  whom  ?  " 

"  Of  Lieut.  Henry  Cartaret,  who  captured  me,  a  son 
of  Col.  Henry  Cartaret." 

"  Of  my  friend  Henry  Cartaret,  of  '  Chatsworth  ?  '  " 

"  The  very  same." 

"  Humph !  That's  a  queer  idea.  Henry  Cartaret  was 
the  soul  of  honor — his  son  in  the  American  army  must 
be  the  same.  What  has  either  of  them  to  do  with  the 
worthy  Capt.  Canolles,  freebooter  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell  you.  But  I  can  assure  you  that  the 
two  men  might  be  taken  for  each  other,  though  the 
expression  of  face  is  not  the  same." 

"  Strange  enough  !  How  is  that,  my  friend  ?  "  he 
said  to  Canolles. 

"  How  reply  to  an  absurdity,  Colonel,  or  account  for 
a  mere  coincidence?"  said  the  person  addressed. 

"  The  voice  !  It  is  the  very  same  ! "  exclaimed  Lieut. 
Ferrers. 

Here  Gen.  Phillips,  who  seemed  suffering  greatly, 
said  in  a  painful  voice  : 

"  Pardon  me,  Colonel,  but  this  interview  is  too  much 
for  my  strength.  Allow  me  to  abridge  it.  Lieut.  Fer- 
rers will  be  good  enough  to  report  briefly  the  circum- 
stances of  his  capture." 

The  young  man  saluted,  and  said : 


THE    LIKENESS.  47 

"  I  am  ashamed  to  have  to  inform  you,  General,  that 
my  failure  in  the  expedition  I  undertook  was  complete, 
and,  worse  still,  that  my  company  were  either  cut 
down  or  captured  to  a  man.  Permit  me  to  add,  in 
simple  justice  to  myself,  that  this  was  the  result  of  bad 
fortune,  rather  than  of  any  fault  on  my  part.  I  crossed 
James  River,  as  I  was  directed,  left  a  guard  at  the 
boats,  stopped  for  a  brief  space  to  obtain  information 
at  a  house  where  I  was  expected  to  find  friends,  and 
had  not  gone  half  a  dozen  miles  beyond,  moving  with 
extreme  caution,  when  a  force  at  least  double  my  own 
of  American  cavalry  came  in  on  my  rear.  I  at  once 
wheeled  my  column  and  charged  them,  but  found  that 
the  force  was  too  heavy  to  promise  much.  I  therefore 
cut  through  toward  the  boats,  pursued  by  the  enemy, 
and  arrived  only  to  find  that  they  had  been  carried  off." 

"Aha!"  said  Lord  Ferrers,  suddenly  glancing  at 
Canolles,  "I  think  I  understand  who  laid  hands  on 
your  boats.  A  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Canolles,  or 
I'm  mistaken.  Eh,  friend  ? " 

Canolles  bowed. 

"  Yes,  Colonel.  It  was  I  who  captured  the  boats  of 
Lieut.  Ferrers." 

"  Very  well ;  but  let  us  hear  the  rest.  Gen.  Phillips 
is  unwell." 

"The  Americans  were  commanded  by  Lieut.  Carta- 
ret.  I  was  compelled  to  surrender  and  was  conducted 
to  Gen.  Lafayette's  headquarters,  who,  ascertaining 
who  I  was,  very  readily  allowed  me  to  attempt  an  ex- 
change and  even  to  accompany  the  flag  of  truce,  which 
is  without  in  charge  of  the  gentlemen  of  your  staff, 
General." 


48  CANOLLES. 

"  I  have  no  American  officer  of  your  rank,  Lieu- 
tenant. I  might  exchange  this  prisoner  Canolles  for 
you.  but  he  is  not  an  American  officer,  and  Gen.  Lafay- 
ette would  not  accept  him.  He  is  even  said  to  attack 
both  sides.  You  will  therefore  return  with  the  flag  of 
truce  and  convey  to  the  gentlemen  composing  it  the 
purport  of  my  reply.  Now,  for  the  rest.  Col.  Ferrers, 
you  will  be  good  enough  to  assemble  a  drumhead  court- 
martial  in  one  hour  from  this  time  to  try  the  prisoner, 
here  under  charges  as  a  spy  and  marauder,  unprotected 
by  the  American  flag.  I  do  not  insist  that  he  shall  be 
hanged — and  he  is  evidently  no  common  robber.  If 
found  guilty  under  the  charges,  a  detail  will  be  made 
for  his  execution  by  shooting.  The  man  is  a  soldier  at 
least,  and  shall  have  a  soldier's  death." 

"Thanks,  General,"  said  Canolles. 

A  movement  of  the  hand  indicated  that  Gen.  Phil-- 
lips  wished  to  be  left  alone,  and  the  persons  present 
went  toward  the  door. 

As  Lord  Ferrers  passed  Canolles  he  said : 

"  There  is  one  thing  that  puzzles  me  still,  my  worthy 
friend.  You  stated — it  is  a  singular  statement — that 
my  nephew,  Tom  Ferrers,  gave  you  information  of 
that  convoy." 

"  Yes,"  said  Canolles. 

"I!"  exclaimed  young  Ferrers,  who  overheard  the 
words. 

"  Unconsciously,  no  doubt,  sir,"  said  Canolles,  with 
his  immovable  coolness.  "You,  no  doubt,  recall  your 
visit  last  night  to  Chatsworth!  " 

"  Certainly,  Captain." 


THE    LIKENESS.  49 

"  I  was  near  you." 

"Near  me!" 

"  In  the  adjoining  room." 

Young  Ferrers  looked  deeply  mortified,  exclaiming: 

"And  the  ladies  knew  as  much?" 

"No." 

"  They  were  ignorant  of  your  presence?" 

"Entirely." 

"  The  eldest,  especially?  I  mean  Miss  Eleanor 
Talbot?" 

"  She  was  no  more  aware  of  the  fact  than  the  rest." 

"  And  you  overheard " 

"  All  you  said.  Let  it  he  a  lesson  to  you,  Lieu- 
tenant, not  to  whisper  military  secrets.  Birds  of  the 
air  may  carry  the  matter,  and7' — the  old  grim  smile 
came  hackr — "  some  desperado  or  swamp  fox  like  myself 
may  be  lurking  within  earshot  of  you." 

The  young  man  looked  earnestly  at  him. 

"Are  you  really  a  desperado — a  mere  plunderer?" 

"Do  not  all  men  tell  you  so?"  returned  Canolles. 

"  Yes,  but — was  there  ever  such  a  likeness  ?" 

"You  would  say " 

"  To  Harry  Cartaret,  as  perfect  a  gentleman  as  I  ever 
knew ! " 

Canolles  listened  with  an  impenetrable  expression 
and  made  no  reply. 

"I  cannot  conceive  it  possible,"  Ferrers  added,  "that 
a  man  with  your  face  could  be  a  mere  bandit,  as  you 
are  styled.  Were  you  really  such,  I  should  hate  you 
for  that  likeness  ! " 

Canolles  looked  fixedly  at  the  speaker  and  said  coolly: 


50  CANOLLES. 

"Do  not  hate  a  man,  Lieutenant,  who,  in  twelve 
hours,  or  sooner,  will  be  a  corpse.  That  saddens  you, 
I  see — you  have  a  loyal  face  and  a  loyal  heart,  I  am 
sure — but  death  does  not  frighten  me.  When  it  comes, 
I  will  face  it  unmoved." 

Canolles  saluted,  and  was  reconducted  to  prison  by 
the  guard,  and  Tom  Ferrers  returned  with  a  heavy 
heart,  and  a  vague  sentiment  that  the  supposed  marau- 
der was  not  what  he  seemed,  to  the  American  head- 
quarters. 

An  hour  afterwards  the  American  cannonade  recom- 
menced, and  again  the  crash  of  shell  was  heard  as  they 
tore  through  the  houses  of  ^Blandford. 

Bollingbrook  finally  became  so  dangerously  exposed 
in  the  range  of  the  fire  that  Gen.  Phillips,  in  whose 
veins  the  fever  burned  more  and  more  fiercely,  was 
urged  to  take  refuge  in  the  basement  story  of  the  house. 
He  reluctantly  consented,  and  was  assisted  down  the 
stairs  by  some  of  his  staff. 

As  a  cannon  shot  passed,  whizzing  by  the  window, 
he  again  muttered : 

"  Why  won't  they  let  me  die  in  peace  ?  " 


LAFAYETTE  AND  HIS  MINIATURE.          51 


CHAPTER  X. 

LAFAYETTE    AND    HIS    MINIATURE. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  day  on  which  the  scene 
just  described  had  taken  place,  and  the  sun,  about  to 
set,  threw  long  shadows  over  the  banks  of  the  Appo- 
mattox  and  the  slow  moving  current. 

A  handsome  marquee,  to  employ  the  term  then 
applied  to  the  tents  used  by  superior  officers,  stood  on  a 
knoll  not  far  from  the  American  batteries,  which  had 
ceased  firing,  and  the  surroundings  of  the  marquee 
indicated  that  it  was  occupied  by  the  commanding 
officer  of  the  Americans.  A  finely  caparisoned  horse 
was  tethered  to  a  bough  near,  and  champed  his  bit  and 
pawed  the  ground  impatiently;  an  orderly  walked  to 
and  fro  in  front  of  the  tent ;  and  from  its  summit 
floated  a  long  streamer. 

The  light  of  sunset,  plunging  through  the  opening 
of  the  tent,  fell  upon  a  camp  couch  covered  with  a 
colored  blanket,  on  which  lay  a  fine  cocked  hat  decor- 
ated with  gold  lace,  a  pair  of  riding  gauntlets  reaching 
nearly  to  the  elbow,  and  a  richly  ornamented  sword ; 
also  on  two  or  three  camp  stools,  and  a  table  contain- 
ing pen,  ink  and  paper. 

The  marquee  had  only  one  occupant.  He  was  a  boy- 
ish-looking individual,  apparently  about  twenty-three 
years  of  age,  with  a  bright  and  animated  face,  brilliant 
eyes,  a  long,  straight  and  prominent  nose,  and  a  lofty 


52  CANOLLES. 

forehead,  retreating  somewhat,  but  clearly  indicative 
both  of  intellect  and  resolution.  He  wore  the  Conti- 
nental uniform,  with  heavy  buff  facings,  epaulets,  a 
stiff  standing  collar  and  a  voluminous  white  cravat 
and  ruffles ;  his  hair  was  tied  behind  with  a  ribbon ; 
and  on  his  left  breast  was  a  decoration — a  Maltese 
cross  suspended  by  a  ribbon. 

For  the  moment  the  officer  seemed  to  have  quite  lost 
sight  of  all  his  surroundings — to  even  be  unconscious 
where  he  was — and  his  whole  attention  was  plainly 
given  to  an  object  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  and  was 
gazing  at  with  absorbing  attention. 

This  object  was  a  small  medallion  of  gold,  set  with 
diamonds,  and  contained  an  exquisitely  painted  minia- 
ture. The  miniature  represented  a  young  girl  scarcely 
"  out  of  her  teens,"  and  the  face  was  one  of  extraor- 
dinary beauty  and  sweetness.  The  hair  was  carried 
back  from  the  white  temple  in  the  fashion  called  la 
Pompadour,  adopted  at  the  court  of  Marie  Antoinette, 
and  the  beautiful  shoulders  emerged  from  a  cloud. 
The  head  was  bent  sideways,  and  looked  at  you  with  a 
winning  smile — it  was  a  little  duchess  of  the  ancient 
regime  making  love  to  some  one  with  her  beaux  yeux, 
and  her  dimples  and  roses. 

Lafayette — for  the  young  officer  was  Marie  Paul 
Joseph  Roche  Yves  Gilbert  Mathias  de  Lafayette, 
Marquis  and  Major-General  in  the  American  army — 
remained  motionless,  gazing  at  the  picture,  and  his  gay 
face  assumed  an  expression  of  exquisite  tenderness. 
He  pressed  the  miniature  to  his  lips,  and  murmured, 
"  Chere  Anastasie!  " 


LAFAYETTE  AND  HIS  MINIATUKE.         53 

Then  the  gallant-looking  young  fellow  burst  into  a 
laugh. 

"Horreur!"  he  exclaimed,  "a  man  kissing  his 
spouse's  picture,  and  breaking  out  into  exclamations — 
the  exclamations  of  a  garcon  sighing  with  his  first 
love  !  How  absurd !  But  no — is  it  so  absurd  to  love 
one's  wife  ? — and  one  might  pass  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
worse  than  in  thinking  of  Anastasie  de  Nooilas  de  la 
Lafayette  where  she  sleeps  yonder  across  the  sea ! " 

He  fell  into  a  fit  of  musing. 

"  Is  it  not  strange,"  he  murmured,  "  that  I  should  be 
here,  and  Madame  la  Marquise1  there  ?  But  no,  it  is 
better  ! — a  name  in  history  is  better  than  the  softest 
arms,  I  think !  And  then — to  have  known  his  Excel- 
lency and  been  trusted  by  him — that  is  better  still,  is  it 
not,  Anastasie  ?  "  he  said,  addressing  the  picture  with 
a  smile  on  his  lips ;  "  better  than  to  hold  even  you  in 
one's  embrace  and  hear  your  musical  voice." 

He  pressed  his  lips  once  more  to  the  medallion, 
which  seemed  to  smile  at  him,  replaced  it  in  his  breast, 
where  it  was  secured  by  a  delicate  steel  chain  passed 
around  his  neck,  and  with  a  sigh  turned  toward  the 
table  on  which  lay  the  papers. 

He  had  scarcely  begun  to  peruse  the  official  looking 
documents  which  he  opened,  and  in  whose  bold  clear 
handwriting  any  one  familiar  with  it  might  have  rec- 
ognized the  writing  of  Gen!  Washington,  when  the 
rapid  gallop  of  ahorse  was  heard  approaching  the  mar- 
quee, a  cavalier  with  jingling  spurs  a-nd  clattering  sabre 
was  heard  dismounting,  and  a  strong,  bluff  voice  ex- 
claimed : 


54  CANOLLES. 

"  This  is  Gen.  Lafayette's  marquee  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  orderly. 

"  Tell  him  that  his  friend  Mad  Anthony  Wayne  has 
come  to  see  him  ! " 

"Who,  sir?" 

"  Mad  Anthony  Wayne  !  " 

•The  orderly  was  still  in  a  maze  at  this  odd  announce- 
ment, when  he  was  pushed  aside,  Lafayette  hastened 
out  of  the  tent,  and  hurrying  with  beaming  eyes  toward 
the  visitor,  exclaimed : 

"  Welcome !  Welcome,  my  dear  Monsieur  Ulnsense ! 
The  hour  is  happy  that  brings  you.  Come  !  Come  ! " 

And  opening  his  arms  he  caught  to  his  breast  the 
soldierly  figure  of  a  man  clad  in  the  uniform  of  a  Major- 
General,  covered  with  dust,  and  glowing  with  a  pleasure 
apparently  equal  to  that  displayed  by  his  host. 


MAD    ANTHONY."  55 


CHAPTER  XL 


Major-General  Anthony  Wayne,  universally  known 
in  the  army  as  "  Mad  Anthony  "  for  his  reckless  courage 
and  unfailing  gayety,  was  about  thirty-five  years  of  age, 
tall,  vigorous,  and  with  something  dashing,  off-hand 
and  attractive  in  every  movement  of  his  person  and 
every  tone  of  his  voice.  When  he  walked  he  seemed 
to  move  on  steel  springs;  when  he  spoke  he  laughed, 
gesticulated,  and  never  kept  still.  You  could  see  that 
this  was  a  strong,  tough,  headlong  military  machine, 
of  which  the  mainsprings  were  gayety  and  courage. 

"Welcome  !  welcome  ! "  repeated  Lafayette  drawing 
him  into  his  tent.  "  What  news  from  his  Excellency? " 

"  He  is  coming — if  not  now,  a  little  later — and  then, 
my  dear  Lafayette,  look  out  for  thunder ! " 

"He  was  well?" 

"  As  strong  as  iron." 

"  Heaven  be  thanked.  Do  you  know,  my  friend, 
there  is  no  one,  and  never  was,  like  his  Excellency?" 

" Know  it?  Yes,  I  know  it — both  the  man  and  the 
soldier !"  cried  Wayne.  "You  remember  what  I  told 
him  at  Stony  Point?" 

"You  said—" 

"  I  said  to  Washington,  Til  storm  hell,  General,  if 
you'll  only  plan  it.": 

"Mad  Anthony! — no,   brave   Anthony!     I  do  not 


56  CANOLLES. 

recall  that ;  but  stay ! — I  recall  another  thing.  In  the 
attack  you  were  shot  down  and  fell  on  your  knees — 
when  you  exclaimed  < March  on! — carry  me  into  the 
fort! — for  I  will  die  at  the  head  of  my  column  ! ' ' 

"My  very  words! — and  you  would  have  said  the 
same,  I'll  make  oath  ! " 

Mad  Anthony  thereupon  threw  his  hat  upon  the 
table  and  said  : 

"  My  command  is  moving  toward  the  Rappahannock 
to  reinforce  you — I  left  them  and  rode  a  hundred  miles 
to  confer  with  you — no  mere  despatches  for  me  when 
I  can  talk  face  to  face !  I'll  tell  you  everything,  but  at 
present  I  could  eat  a  wolf — with  sour  krout  sauce  like 
that  used  in  my  native  country,  Pennsylvania." 

"  Pardon  ! "  exclaimed  Lafayette.  "  My  poor  head  ! 
"Why  did  I  forget?" 

He  gave  orders  to  a  servant,  the  table  was  promptly 
spread,  and  Major-G-eneral  "Wayne  devoured  everything 
before  him — after  which  he  drew  a  long  breath  of  satis- 
faction. 

"  Now  to  talk ! "  he  said. 

An  animated  conversation  ensued  between  the 
friends,  relating  to  the  anticipated  advance  of  Corn- 
wallis,  the  junction  between  himself  and  Gen.  Phillips, 
and  the  probable  result  of  the  campaign,  of  which 
Wayne  seemed  to  have  no  doubt.  It  was  a  striking 
spectacle,  the  interview  between  these  two  brave  and 
joyous  young  soldiers,  thoroughly  devoted  to  the  cause, 
never  doubting  how  the  great  struggle  would  terminate, 
and  resolved  to  stake  all  that  they  possessed,  including 


"MAD    ANTHONY."  57 

life  itself,  on  the  ultimate  achievement  by  the  American 
colonies  of  their  national  independence. 

At  last  the  eyes  of  Wayne  began  to  drowse;  he 
yawned,  then  laughed,  then  yawned  again,  and,  declar- 
ing that  he  must  sleep,  if  only  for  an  hour,  lay  down 
on  Lafayette's  camp  couch,  and  in  a  few  moments  was 
sound  asleep. 

Scarcely  had  the  long  breathing  of  the  bluff  soldier 
indicated  that  he  had  entered  the  land  of  slumber  when 
a  voice  was  heard  without  asking  for  Gen.  Lafayette, 
an  officer  entered  the  tent,  and  Lafayette  rising  and 
holding  out  his  hand  said,  cordially  : 

"  Ah!  it  is  you,  my  brave  Cartaret ! " 

"  Myself,  General,  and  I  have  come  to  make  an 
earnest  request  which  I  trust  you  will  not  refuse  me," 
returned  the  young  lieutenant  in  a  voice  of  deep  emo- 
tion. 

Lafayette  looked  intently  at  Cartaret.  He  was  exceed- 
ingly pale,  and  the  deepest  sorrow  was  stamped  upon 
the  bloodless  cheeks.  It  was  evident  that  something 
had  occurred  to  move  the  young  man  to  the  very  depths 
of  his  being;  and  as  plain,  from  his  erect  carriage  and 
resolute  bearing,  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  pur- 
sue some  course  which  involved  peril  and  required  the 
nerve  of  a  soldier. 

"  A  request,"  said  Lafayette,  losing  his  smiles. 
"Need  I  tell  you,  my  dear  Cartaret,  that  I  shall  grant 
it  if  it  is  possible  ? " 

"  You  can  do  so,  General." 

"  Tell  me  how." 


58  CANOLLES. 

"  You  sent  a  flag  of  truce  to-day  to  the  English 
camp.'7 

"  Yes,"  said  Lafayette ;  "  ostensibly  to  procure  an 
exchange  of  the  young  Lieut.  Ferrers — really  to  slacken 
my  cannon  fire  and  husband  my  ammunition  without 
leading  the  enemy  to  suppose  that  my  supply  was 
small." 

Cartaret  saluted. 

"  The  exchange  was  not  effected,  as  you  know, 
General." 

"It  was  not  effected." 

"  There  were  no  American  officers  in  the  enemy's 
hands." 

"None." 

"  Except— the  officer  called  Canolles  ?  " 

Lafayette  shook  his  head. 

"  He  is  not  an  officer — not  even  an  American  soldier. 
He  has  no  flag — is  a  plunderer — even  plunders  us,  it  is 
said.  An  exchange  of  Lieut.  Ferrers  for  him  is  im- 
possible, dear  Cartaret." 

The  young  man  allowed  his  head  to  droop  upon  his 
breast.  His  brows  were  knit,  and  he  preserved  for 
some  moments  a  gloomy  silence. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  said  at  length.  "  I  ought  to  have 
known  that — and  I  know  it — yes!  It  is  useless  to 
speak  of  such  an  exchange,  General.  And  yet " 

He  stopped,  his  face  glowing,  his  eyes  full  of  earnest 
emotion. 

Lafayette  looked  at  him  fixedly,  and  it  was  easy  to 
see  that  his  look  was  one  of  strong  sympathy  and 
some  curiosity. 


"MAD    ANTHONY."  59 

"  You  would  say,  Lieutenant " 

Cartaret  did  not  reply. 

"  Speak !  "  said  Lafayette.  "  You  speak  to  a  friend 
as  well  as  to  your  commander.  What  moves  you  ? 
What  have  you  to  do  with  this  person  Canolles,  and 
what  request  have  you  to  make  ?  " 

"  I  have  much  to  do  with  him,"  said  Cartaret,  in  a 
low  voice. 

"  You  know  him  ?  " 

"Well." 

"And " 

"  I  have  come  to  tell  you  plainly  why  it  is  not  possi- 
ble for  me  to  reflect  calmly  that  at  daylight,  probably 
to-morrow,  the  person  of  whom  we  are  speaking  will 
die,  and  to  beg,  if  necessary  to  entreat,  that  you  will 
grant  me  permission  to  take  a  detachment  from  my 
company — men  on  whom  I  can  count " 

"A  detachment! — with  what  object,  Lieutenant?  " 

"  To  enter  the  English  lines,  cut  my  way  through 
whatever  I  find  in  my  path,  and  rescue  him  !  " 

"  Kescue  him  !     Rescue  whom  ?  " 

"  Canolles,"  replied  Cartaret. 


60  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

FANNY  TALBOT. 

The  sun  was  about  to  set  on  the  same  evening — that 
which  witnessed  the  interview  between  Gen.  Wayne 
and  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette.  Fanny  Talbot,  the 
younger  of  the  sisters  presented  to  the  reader  at  Chats- 
worth,  was  walking  in  the  grassy  grounds  attached  to 
the  mansion,  along  the  banks  of  the  river. 

The  evening  was  perfectly  still.  The  broad  stream, 
flowing  with  a  musical  murmur  under  the  wide  boughs 
of  drooping  trees,  was  dotted  here  and  there  with  the 
white  triangular  sails  of  the  little  barks  of  fishermen 
.living  on  its  banks ;  and  this  low,  sweet  murmur  seemed 
to  be  the  lullaby  of  some  fairy  Undine  of  the  river, 
dreamingly  saluting  with  her  song  the  gold  of  sunset, 
the  stars  which  began  to  twinkle  in  the  orange  sky,  and 
the  rising  rnoon.  From  the  tender  grass  peeped  up 
myriads  of  flowers,  the  sweet,  shy  children  of  the 
spring;  the  songs  of  birds  were  faintly  heard  as  they 
sank  to  rest,  and  a  light  breeze  passed  like  an  almost 
imperceptible  whisper  through  the  delicate  May  leaves. 
It  was  the  hour  for  dreams — for  musing  on  the  past  or 
the  future — and  Fanny  Talbot  seemed  to  follow  idly 
those  dreams  or  recollections  which  make  up  so  much 
of  the  pleasures  or  the  pains  of  human  life. 

There  was  something  fascinating  in  the  appearance  of 
this  young  and  gracious  creature  as  she  wandered  slow- 


FANNY   TALBOT.  61 

ly  aloDgthe  grassy  slope  in  the  quiet  evening;  in  every 
movement  of  her  person  might  be  discerned  the  inde- 
finable charm  of  youth,  freshness,  and  the  sweet  dawn 
of  emotion  slowly  broadening  into  the  fuller  day. 
There  was  even  another  and  more  secret  charm  about 
her,  impossible  to  describe — that  singular  attraction  of 
some  human  beings  which  escapes  analysis,  but  reveals 
its  presence,  like  some  delicate  and  exquisite  perfume, 
that  sways  all  hearts,  and  is  a  thousand  times  more 
powerful  in  its  influence  than  mere  physical  beauty. 

This  subtle  charm  accompanied  Fanny  Talbot  wher- 
ever she  moved.  Just  on  the  threshold  of  womanhood 
— the  spring  bud  opening  slowly  into  the  summer  flow- 
er— she  seemed  to  be  looking  forward  to  the  full  devel- 
opment of  her  being  with  timid  emotion  and  surprise. 
But  a  single  glance  at  the  young  face  showed  that  her 
nature  was  not  weak — on  the  contrary,  that  her  charac- 
ter was  strong  and  resolute.  She  was,  indeed,  all  wom- 
an in  her  organization — both  timid  and  firm,  both  pli- 
able and  unbending.  Under  the  shy  manner  you  could 
see  this  force  of  character,  and  felt  that  if  the  moment 
came  this  girl  would  be  capable  of  opposing  her  will 
with  unfaltering  nerve  to  any  obstacle  in  her  path.  Of 
her  life  during  the  period  preceding  the  moment  when 
she  is  presented  to  the  reader,  we  shall  say  a  few  words 
only,  leaving  the  full  development  of  the  circumstances 
shaping  her  character  and  laying  the  foundation  of  her 
after  fate  to  future  pages  of  this  narrative.  She  was 
the  daughter  of  a  very  distant  cousin  of  Henry  Cartaret, 
of  Chatsworth,  and  on  the  death  of  her  parents,  which 
occurred  during  her  childhood,  had  been  taken  home  to 


62  CANOLLES. 

Chatsworth  with  her  elder  sister  Eleanor,  where  she 
had  grown  to  girlhood  under  the  fostering  care  of  the 
excellent  gentleman  at  the  head  of  this  large  establish- 
ment. As  Mr.  Cartaret  was  himself  a  widower,  he  had 
also  offered  a  home  in  his  house  to  Mrs.  Talbot,  an 
aunt  of  the  two  girls,  one  of  those  estimable  old  ladies  of 
whom  there  is  little  to  say  except  that  they  are  neutral 
in  everything,  gliding  through  life  like  highly  respect- 
able lay  figures  on  wheels — persons  in  whom  you  can 
never  find  the  least  fault — whom  you  respect,  and  most 
justly,  for  the  absence  in  them  of  bad  qualities,  and 
who  are  entirely  uninteresting. 

Fanny  grew  up  in  the  kind,  home  atmosphere  at 
Chatsworth,  and  naturally  formed  an  attachment  for 
the  playmate  who  most  frequently  shared  her  rambles 
in  search  of  wild  flowers  and  birds'  nests — her  cousin, 
Henry  Cartaret.  When  she  was  still  very  young  the 
youth  one  day  quite  startled  her  by  the  most  unex- 
pected of  proposals — namely,  that  she  should  marry 
him  as  soon  as  he  attained  his  majority.  Fanny  received 
this  proposition  with  the  air  of  a  startled  fawn,  colored 
and  promptly  refused  him.  This  ill  success  had  a 
marked  effect  on  the  youth.  He  had  been  full  of  the 
gayest  spirits,  prone  to  laugh  at  everything,  to  sing 
snatches  of  song  from  pure  light-heartedness  as  he 
walked  or  rode,  or  lolled  on  the  portico,  but  when 
Fanny  refused  him  all  this  disappeared.  He  became 
deeply  melancholy  and  lost  all  his  smiles.  He  seemed 
to  have  no  power  to  bear  up  against  his  misfortune ; 
and  this  indeed  was  the  weak  place  in  a  character 
otherwise  admirable.  Henry  Cartaret  was  kindly, 


FANNY    TALBOT.  63 

sweet-tempered,  of  the  highest  and  nicest  sense  of 
honor,  but  he  wanted  what  .is  called  in  rough  but 
expressive  metaphor  "backbone."  Everybody  loved 
him,  and  felt  an  impulse  to — protect  him.  Now,  when 
the  world  feels  like  protecting  a  man  it  does  not  watch 
his  eye  for  the  indication  of  his  will ;  and  Fanny  Talbot, 
following  her  sure  woman's  instinct,  knew  that  her 
playmate  was  not  the  person  she  should  marry.  Never- 
theless, his  deep  melancholy  had  its  effect.  A  woman 
is  always  a  woman,  that  is  to  say,  unhappiness  in  others 
makes  her  unhappy,  and  the  instinct  of  her  heart  is  to 
remove  this  unhappiness  if  she  can.  So  Fanny  began 
to  sigh  as  she  pondered  in  her  chamber  or  her  solitary 
walks;  to  think  with  pity  of  poor  Harry,  who  was 
breaking  his  heart  about  her  and  never  smiled  now. 
One  day  they  met  in  a  glade  of  the  woods,  about  twi- 
light, whither  each  had  gone  unknown  to  the  other, 
and  when  they  returned  to  Chatsworth,  at  nightfall, 
Fanny  had  yielded  to  his  suit,  and  promised  to  marry 
him. 

She  had  yielded  from  compassion,  not  from  love,  and 
reflection  told  her  as  much.  The  result  was  that  she, 
in  turn,  fell  into  melancholy.  Many  times  she  nearly 
made  up  her  mind  to  go  to  him  and  tell  him  that  she 
had  mistaken  her  feelings,  and  rashly  promised  what 
she  ought  not  to  perform.  But  it  was  impossible.  The 
young  man  was  in  the  seventh  heaven  of  happiness, 
and  then  her  word  was  plighted — plighted  !  The  girl's 
sense  of  honor  was  extremely  high.  She  had  given 
her  word — her  honor  was  involved — she  must  keep  her 


64  CANOLLES. 

word,  not  forfeit  her  honor,  and  marry  one  whom  she 
now  felt  she  did  not  love ! 

This  account  of  Fanny  and  her  fortunes  in  the  years 
preceding  the  opening  of  our  narrative  must  suffice  for 
the  present.  When  events  took  place  resulting  in  the 
disappearance  of  Henry  Cartaret,  Esq.,  from  Chats- 
worth,  the  two  young  ladies  and  Mrs.  Talbot  remained 
at  the  old  homestead  with  a  few  aged  servants,  and  in 
time  Henry  Cartaret  went  into  the  army,  where  his 
gayety  and  the  courage  of  his  blood  made  him  a  favorite. 
He  became  lieutenant,  enjoyed  his  life  and  his  grade, 
and  through  his  days  and  hours  ran,  like  a  thread  of 
gold,  the  thought  that  Fanny  would  marry  him  as  soon 
as  the  war  was  over.  Such  were  the  relations  between 
the  two  young  persons  in  the  month  of  May,  1781. 

Was  this  all  about  Fanny?  The  reader  is  probably 
too  experienced  a  peruser  of  the  works  of  the  respect- 
able composers  of  fiction  who  swarm  in  all  the  fields  of 
modern  literature  to  suppose  any  such  thing.  The 
writer  of  these  pages  scarcely  merits  any  credit  for 
frankness  when  he  states  that  there  was  much  more  in 
the  life,  as  in  the  character,  of  Fanny  Talbot  than  is 
here  recorded.  What  the  romance  of  her  young  life 
was,  and  whither  the  current  of  events  was  to  sweep 
her — this  for  the  present  must  be  a  secret  known  only 
to  her  historian.  The  dramatic  interest  of  his  narra- 
tive, if  it  possess  any  interest,  demands  that  he  should 
await  the  proper  moment  for  recording  many  additional 
particulars  in  relation  to  Fanny  and  other  personages ; 
and  let  us  not  forget,  what  seems  about  to  be  forgotten 
at  the  present  time,  that  this  dramatic  interest  is  a 


FANNY    TALBOT.  65 

legitimate  and  most  important  element  of  compositions 
aiming  to  delineate  the  fortunes  as  well  as  the  charac- 
ters of  men  and  women.  When  not  forgotten  it  is 
denied,  and  we  are  told  that  metaphysical  analysis  and 
subtle  apothegm  are  the  true  material  with  which  the 
best  fiction  should  be  built.  Is  that  so  certain  ?  Do 
not  Shakespeare,  Fielding,  Scott  arid  all  the  masters 
tell  us  stories  ?  The  story  is  the  canvas  meant  to  catch 
the  mind  and  bear  along  the  vessel;  in  the  hold  you 
may  stow  away,  if  you  choose,  the  wealth  of  Ophir  and 
Golconda.  So,  may  it  please  the  gentle  reader,  as  was 
said  in  the  good  old  times,  this  narrative  relates  the 
fortunes  of  Canolles  and  some  other  people,  aiming  to 
tell  not  only  what  manner  of  human  beings  they  were, 
but  what  befell  them. 
5 


66  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FANNY   AND    ELEANOR. 

Fanny  was  still  strolling  along  the  banks  of  the 
river  when  she  heard  a  step  behind  her,  and  turning 
her  head  saw  Eleanor. 

Miss  Eleanor  Talbot  had  never  been  a  person  of 
happy  disposition,  never  good-natured,  and  more  than 
all,  never  under  any  circumstances  contented.  Unde- 
niably beautiful,  and  endowed  it  would  appear  with  the 
gift  of  giving  those  who  gazed  at  her  pleasure,  she  was 
rarely  pleased  herself,  and,  indeed,  passed  her  life  in 
complaining  of  the  "stupid  "  hours  she  was  forced  to 
pass  in  the  unutterably  stupid  shades  of  Chatsworth. 
Without  a  taste  for  reading — that  blessed  resource  of 
a  life  spent  in  retirement — without  a  fondness  for  the 
little  home  pursuits — petting  flowers,  the  deft  use  of 
the  needle,  music,  .or  other  simple  and  innocent 
methods  of  passing  her  time,  Eleanor  Talbot  found  her 
life  drag  on,  not  dance  as  it  should  have  danced  at 
twenty ;  and  if  her  heart  could  have  been  opened  and  read, 
the  mainspring  of  that  rather  cold  machine  would  have 
been  found  to  be  a  persistent  longing  for  wealth,  ease, 
fine  dresses,  society  and  admiration.  "Wanting  these, 
all  else  was  insipid  to  her — the  gold  of  sunset,  the 
songs  of  birds,  the  flow  of  the  quiet  river,  and  all  the 
fairy  sounds  blown  on  the  winds  of  May,  which  month 
of  months  had  indeed  for  her  no  greater  charm  than 


FANNY    AND    ELEANOR.  67 

the  russet  and  chill  November.  In  a  word,  Miss 
Eleanor  Talbot  was  poor  and  wanted  to  be  rich; 
unknown  and  wanted  to  be  pointed  at  and  admired. 
She  vegetated  at  Chatsworth,  that  stupid,  stupid  place, 
and  there,  beyond,  was  the  great  delightful  world, 
where  everybody  would  burn  incense,  she  was  sure, 
before  the  shrine  of  her  beauty — entitled,  she  was  per- 
suaded, in  her  inmost  being,  to  have  a  shrine  and 
incense. 

There  were  some  particulars  in  the  past  life  of  this 
handsome  young  lady  which  were  a  little  curious,  as 
we  shall  show  in  due  time.  At  present,  let  us  speak 
of  her  interview  on  this  evening  with  Fanny. 

She  seemed  unusually  dissatisfied  and  out  of  temper 
— indeed,  so  much  so  that  the  beautiful  face  had  lost 
all  its  beauty  and  grown  sour. 

"  Here  you  are  dawdling,  dawdling,  dawdling,  mop- 
ing, moping,  moping,"  she  said.  "For  Heaven's 
sake,  stop !  " 

"  I  was  not  moping,  Eleanor,'7  said  Fanny,  quietly. 
She  seemed  quite  accustomed  to  her  sister's  tone. 

"  Oh  !  well,  I  suppose  that  you  mean  to  say  that  you 
enjoy  this  sort  of  thing,"  replied  the  elder,  waving  her 
hand  in  a  decidedly  disdainful  fashion  by  way  of  indi- 
cating the  surrounding  landscape.  "  For  my  part,  I 
wtould  just  as  lieve  be  a  fish  and  live  in  water,  there — 
rather.'7 

Fanny  made  no  reply — a  circumstance  which  seemed 
to  excite  more  ill-humor  than  ever  in  her  companion. 
A  little  irony  and  disdain  were  plain  in  her  voice  now 


68  CANOLLES. 

as  she  went  on.  She  smiled — it  was  not  a  very  pleas- 
ant smile — arid  said  : 

"  No  doubt  your  ladyship  is  far  more  happily  consti- 
tuted than  myself.  You  enjoy  what  is  stupid,  and  are 
satisfied  with  what  is  commonplace — from  the  posses- 
sion of  more  intelligence  and  simpler  tastes  than  other 
people ! " 

It  was  plain  that  Miss  Eleanor  Talbot  was  in  one  of 
those  amiable  moods  peculiar  to  certain  persons,  when 
to  vent  their  feelings  is  a  sort  of  necessity — to  "  squab- 
ble "  the  greatest  of  enjoyments.  Fanny  looked  at  her 
quietly  as  before,  and  said : 

"  You  know  very  well,  Eleanor,  that  I  claim  no 
superiority  to  any  one  in  intelligence  or  taste — I  wish 
you  would  not  taunt  rne  in  this  manner,  and  find  fault 
with  me  on  every  occasion." 

There  was  a  little  irritation  in  her  tone  as  she  ended, 
but  it  was  very  slight.  Her  companion  greeted  it, 
slight  as  it  was,  with  evident  pleasure. 

"  So  I  am  not  the  only  person  with  a  temper!  "  she 
exclaimed.  "  Even  the  perfect  Miss  Fanny  Talbot  h-as 
her  little  weakness  in  the  same  direction  !  " 

"  I  am  not  out  of  temper/'' 

"  It  marvelously  resembles  it." 

"  Well,  if  I  am,  you  make  me  so,  Eleanor.  I  do  not 
know  what  it  is  in  you  that  annoys  me  when  I  feel  least 
like  being  annoyed." 

"  Indeed,  madam  !     So  I  am  a  virago  ?  " 

"  No,  but  you  worry  people.  If  I  were  you  I  would 
not  do  so." 


FANNY    AND    ELEANOR.  69 

Miss  Eleanor  Talbot  made  her  companion  a  little 
mock  ironical  courtesy. 

u  Advice  from  your  ladyship  is  highly  valued.  I 
shall  attempt  to  follow  it,  and — let  me  see — in  what 
particular  should  I  strive  to  correct  my  unhappy  dispo- 
sition ?  I  am  fault-finding,  dissatisfied,  ill-humored — 
is  that  all?" 

Fanny  made  no  reply. 

"  And  no  doubt  all  these  amiable  traits  were  dis- 
played, according  to  your  ladyship's  opinion,  in  the 
interview  last  night  with  that  hero  of  romance,  Mr. 
Canolles." 

Fanny  fixed  her  eyes  calmly  upon  her  sister,  and 
said  : 

"  Yes,  I  think  they  were." 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  !  !  " 

Three  exclamation  points  alone  can  convey  an  ade- 
quate idea  of  the  tone  of  these  words. 

"  You  were  unjust  to  him,  and  I  wonder  how  you 
could  bring  yourself  to  speak  so  to  one  with  whom — 
well,  to  him — in  tones  so  violent — to  employ  no  stronger 
word." 

It  was  evident  that  the  long-enduring  Fanny  was  be- 
coming irritated  for  some  reason,  in  her  turn.  Her 
face  flushed  a  little  and  her  head  rose  almost  haughtily. 

"  Oh  !  indeed  !  I  am  violent,  to  employ  no  stronger 
word,  am  I !  Then,  Madame  the  Duchess,  to  employ 
the  stronger  word.  Because  I  spoke  plainly  to  a  com- 
mon robber — a  notorious  plunderer — I  was  'violent!'  " 

Fanny  lost  patience  and  exclaimed  : 


70  CANOLLES. 

"  Yes,  and  unlady-like,  if  you  wish  me  to  use  the 
other  word  I  referred  to." 

The  younger  had  become  nearly  as  much  out  of  tem- 
per now  as  the  elder — the  reader  must  decide  upon  the 
relative  demerit  attached  to  each  in  this  highly  dis- 
creditable proceeding.  At  the  word  "  unlady-like " 
Miss  Eleanor  Talbot  felt,  to  judge  from  her  expression 
of  countenance,  a  strong  desire  to  "box"  her  com- 
panion ;  but,  gentle  as  Fanny  looked  on  ordinary  occa- 
sions, there  was  that  now  in  her  face  and  carriage  of 
person  which  did  not  encourage  the  idea  that  she  would 
submit  to  such  an  indignity  very  quietly.  Had  you 
seen  her  one  hour  before,  you  would  have  said  that  the 
result  would  have  been  an  outburst  of  tears.  Looking 
at  her  now,  that  theory  appeared  very  doubtful  indeed. 

Miss  Eleanor,-  relinquishing  if  she  had  conceived  the 
design  of  personal  assault,  had  recourse  to  the  sharper 
female  weapon. 

"  Oh,  very  well,  madam  !  Very  well,  indeed  !  So  I 
am  a  violent,  ill-natured,  fault-finding,  unlady-like  ter- 
magant !  I  am  a  coarse,  wrangling,  insulting,  ill-bred 
and  generally  objectionable  creature  !  I  am  the  black 
sheep  of  the  household,  while  Mademoiselle  is  the  meek 
and  snow-white  lamb  !  I  am  only  fit  to  be  taunted  and 
outraged  to  my  very  face,  and  all  because  I  am  not 
quite  as  warm  an  admirer,  to  employ  no  stronger  word, 
as  Mademoiselle  is,  of  a  low  marauder — a  person  no 
better  than  a  thief." 

These  words  evidently  broke  down  Fanny's  remain- 
der of  self-control.  The  barrier  gave  way  and  the 
waters  rushed. 


FANNY   AND    ELEANOR.  71 

"  You  should  be  ashamed,  Eleanor  ! — ashamed,  I 
say  !  Remember — but  it  is  useless  to  remonstrate  with 
you  !  I  begin  to  think  that  there  is  something  heart- 
less in  you  ! " 

"At  least  I  am  not  love-sick,  and  while  engaged  to 
one—" 

"Stop  !"  exclaimed  Fanny;  "if  you  drive  me  too  far 
I  will  tell  you  some  unwelcome  truths." 

"Tell  them  !"  was  the  angry  reply. 

"  No,  I  will  not — let  us  part  from  each  other.  You 
irritate  me  beyond  expression  ! " 

"  Very  well,  madam;  just  as  you  please.  But  as  we 
have  had  the  pleasure  to  speak  of  the  honorable  Mr. 
Canolles,  I  will  inform  you  of  what  a  servant  has  just 
reported,  that  he  was  captured  by  the  British  last  night 
while  endeavoring  to  break  into  a  money  chest,  and  is 
probably  by  this  time  hanging  by  the  neck,  as  the 
American  flag  does  not  protect  such  people  as  himself." 

Fanny  Talbot  turned  her  head  quickly,  and  all  the 
color  faded  from  her  cheeks. 

"  Is  this  true  ?" 

.    "  Oh  !  I  see  the  intelligence  is  not  very  agreeable. 
Yes,  it  is  true.     The  men  who  escaped  report  it." 

"Captured?" 

"  Yes." 

"In  the  hands  of  the  enemy?" 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  Miss  Eleanor,  with  a  mocking 
laugh,  "whether  he  is  precisely  in  the  hands  of  the 
enemy,  as  you  doubtless  understand  the  phrase,  or  not. 
He  has  probably  had  his  neck  encircled  by  a  halter 
Ions;  before  this." 


72  CANOLLES. 

Fanny  turned  suddenly.  It  was  wonderful  to  see 
what  tire  flashed  from  her  eyes. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  meant  when  I  said  that  I 
would  tell  you  some  unwholesome  truths  if  you  goaded 
me  further  ? "  she  said  passionately. 

Eleanor  actually  quailed  "before  the  young  girl's  eyes. 

"I  meant  that  it  is  not  a  very  graceful  thing  for  a 
lady  to  speak  as  you  have  done  both  to  and  of  a  person 
whom  she  would  have  given  her  hand  to  if  he  would 
have  accepted  it ! " 

Miss  Eleanor  actually  panted  with  rage,  but  Fanny 
went  on  before  she  could  speak : 

"  You  dare  not  deny  it !  You  know  it  to  be  the 
truth  !  You  know  that  your  hatred  of  a  gentleman — 
yes!  I  say  a  gentleman — who  has  never  offended  you, 
springs  from  your  bitter  resentment  at  his  not  respond- 
ing to  your  advances,  and  for  this  alone.  For  no  other 
reason — for  no  wrong  he  has  ever  done  you — you  taunt 
and  insult  him  when  he  comes  to  offer  us  a  friendly 
service — you  speak  to  him  as  no  lady  has  the  right  to 
speak  to  any  one — and  last,  worst,  hatefulest  of  all, 
you  revel  in  enjoyment  of  the  thought  that  he  has  died 
a  disgraceful  death,  with  a  halter  around  his  neck,  as  a 
common  criminal ! " 

Miss  Eleanor  shook  with  anger,  and  exclaimed : 

"  I  will  make  you  repent  this  !" 

"  You  do  not  frighten  me,"  was  the  defiant  reply, 
uand  you  cannot  be  more  ill-natured  than  you  always 
have  been  ! " 

Tears  suddenly  came  to  Fanny's  eyes.  She  was  evi- 
dently thinking  of  the  terrible  news. 


FANNY   AND    ELEANOR.  73 

"Oh,  me  !  it  cannot  be  true.     I  must Oh,  me  !" 

She  walked  hurriedly  away.  When  she  had  gone  a 
few  paces  she  turned  and  said  to  her  sister  in  a  low, 
hopeless  tone : 

"  I  am  sorry  I  spoke  to  you  as  I  did.  I  did  not  mean 
to — you  goad  me  until  all  that  is  bad  in  me  is  excited, 
and  I  say  what  I  regret.  What  you  said  of  my  feeling 
for  him  is  not  true.  I  do  not  say  that  you  know  it  to 
be  untrue.  But  oh  !  how  could  you,  Eleanor !  how 
could  you  at  such  a  moment? — it  was  cruel,  cruel! 
But  I  will  say  nothing  more.  Captured  !  dead,  per- 
haps!" 

"With  heaving  bosom,  and  sobs  which  she  could  not 
suppress,  Fanny  Talbot  walked  away,  her  sister  stand- 
ing still  and  looking  after  her,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
she  was  lost  sight  of  in  the  dense  foliage  of  the  woods, 
the  gentle  May  winds  whispering  in  her  troubled  ears. 


74  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    COURAGE    OF   A    GIRL. 

"  Miss  Fanny  !  " 

The  voice  came  from  a  clump,  of  bushes  within  a 
few  feet  of  the  young  lady,  and  she  started  and  turned 
her  head. 

"  It  is  only  me — Walter/'  said  the  voice ;  and  a  boy 
about  sixteen  pushed  aside  the  boughs  and  emerged 
into  the  open  space  near  the  young  lady.  He  was  a 
bright-eyed,  gallant-looking  young  fellow,  with  a  spry 
and  alert  bearing,  a  lithe  and  active  figure,  and  wore 
a  nondescript  dress  ;  around  his  waist  was  a  leathern 
belt  containing  a  single  pistol. 

The  boy  was  the  son  of  a  poor  schoolmaster  of  the 
vicinity  named  Hay  field,  who  had  recently  died — one 
of  those  plain,  respectable  characters  formerly  having 
charge  of  what  were  called  "Old  Field  Schools"  — 
and  was  well  known  to  all  at  Chatsworth.  Lured  by 
his  love  of  adventure,  Walter  Hayfield  had,  on  finding 
himself  an  orphan,  joined  the  company  of  Canolles, 
and  was  almost  the  sole  person  in  the  rough  band  to 
whom  the  latter  gave  his  confidence.  In  return,  the 
youth  had  conceived  for  Canolles  an  enthusiastic 
admiration  and  affection ;  and  of  the  confidential  rela- 
tions existing  between  them  the  interview  which  now 
took  place  furnished  ample  evidence. 

"  You  frightened  me,"  said  Fanny,  "and  I  think  my 


THE    COURAGE    OF   A    GIRL.  75 

nerves  were  already  shaken.     Oh !  tell  me — tell  me  all 
— you  know  what  I  mean/' 

"  About  the  fight  and  .the  captain's  capture,  you 
mean,  Miss  Fanny  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes — is  it  true  ?  " 

The  boy  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"  It  is  true,  Miss  Fanny.  We  attacked  the  British 
baggage  train  and  had  a  hard  fight.  All  got  off  but 
the  captain  and  myself." 

"  You  ? " 

"  I  was  captured,  too,  but  escaped  in  the  dark  after- 
wards. I  determined  to  escape  at  all  risks,  to  do  what 
the  captain  told  me  to  do." 

"  What  was  that,  Walter  ?  " 

The  boy  took  from  an  inner  pocket  of  his  coat  a 
sealed  package. 

"  The  Captain  gave  me  this  a  week  ago.  He  seemed 
to  have  an  idea  that  something  unlucky  was  about  to 
happen  to  him.  In  case  he  was  either  killed  or  cap- 
tured— which  he  said  would  amount  to  the  same — I 
was  to  deliver  this  paper  to  you,  Miss  Fanny." 

Fanny  took  the  paper,  opened  it,  and  the  boy  could 
see  that  her  hand  trembled  a  little. 

Several  sheets  of  paper  were  covered  with  writing  in 
a  firm,  distinct  hand,  and  the  young  lady  ran  through 
them  with  nervous  rapidity.  As  she  read,  her  face 
grew  alternately  red  and  pale.  It  was  wonderful  to  see 
the  variety  of  expressions  which  chased  each  other  over 
her  countenance  as  she  read.  At  one  time  a  deep  blush 
covered  her  cheeks,  and  her  heart  throbbed  with  what 
seemed  to  be  a  delicious  confusion,  even  with  a  sort  of 


76  CANOLLES. 

delight.  Then  a  proud  light  shone  in  her  beautiful 
eyes,  and  she  murmured  some  words  which  her  com- 
panion could  not  hear.  Then  her  cheeks  suddenly 
became  colorless,  and  an  expression  of  acute  pain 
contracted  her  lips,  which  trembled  visibly,  and  tears 
ran  down  her  cheeks. 

"  Ah  !  it  was  like  him — like  him  !  "  she  exclaimed, 
hastily  refolding  the  letter  and  placing  it  in  her  bosom  ; 
"  and  I  understand  now  why  he  was  so  anxious  for  me 
to  have  this  if  any  misfortune  happened  to  him  !  Ah  ! 
thank  you,  thank  you,  Walter?  I  would  not  have  failed 
to  receive  this  letter  for  worlds — it  was  so  good  in  you ! " 

As  though  mastered  by  nervous  emotions  she  walked 
along  rapidly,  the  boy  following  her,  toward  the  river. 
Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  a  point  toward  the  west,  in  the 
direction  of  Petersburg. 

"  Oh  !  can  nothing  be  done  ?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Can 
nothing  be  done  to  save  him  ?  I  do  not  believe  that  they 
would  be  so  cruel.  Eleanor  said  it  to  make  me  suffer — '" 

She  turned  quickly  and  said  : 

"  Walter !  " 

"  Miss  Fanny ! " 

"  Do  you  believe  that — that  he  is  dead  ?  " 

The  boy,  who  seemed  to  have  caught  some  of  his 
companion's  emotion,  replied  : 

"  The}7  would  not  shoot  him  without  trying  him  first, 
and  there  has  hardly  been  time  for  that — the  fight  was 
last  night." 

"But — think! — they  fear  and  hate  him!  Oh!  this 
terrible  thing  of  fighting  without  a  flag  ! " 


THE   COURAGE    OF   A   GIRL.  77 

"Bad  enough,  Miss  Fanny;  and  I  have  over  and  over 
hegged  the  Captain  to  have  one,  but  he  would  not." 

"  Oh  !  if  something  could  be  done  !  If  something 
could  be  done !  Gen.  Phillips  is  the  English  com- 
mander at  Petersburg,  is  he  not?" 

"Yes,  Miss  Fanny." 

"  What  is  his  character  ?  " 

"  They  say  he  is  a  man  of  high  temper,  but  a  gen- 
tleman and  a  man  of  honor." 

"Do  they  say  that?" 

"Yes." 

The  young  lady  walked  on  nervously,  flushing  and 
trembling. 

"  Walter,"  she  suddenly  said,  "  do  you  love  Captain 
Canolles  ? " 

"You  know  how  much,  Miss  Fanny  !  " 

"  Do  you  care  for  me  ?  " 

"You  know  I  do." 

"  Will  you  help  me  to  save  him  ?  " 

"The  Captain?" 

"Yes." 

"  I  would  go  the  end  of  the  world  and  do  anything 
to  save  him." 

"  Then  tell  me  how  I  can  get  to  Petersburg — this 
very  night.  I  must  go — and  now  ;  there  is  not  a  mo- 
ment to  lose,  if  it  is  not  already  too  late  !  " 

The  boy  looked  with  deep  surprise  at  his  companion, 
and  said : 

"  You  go  to  Petersburg,  Miss  Fanny,  and  to-night ! 
Are  you  in  earnest  ?  " 


78  CANOLLES. 

"  Yes,  yes — I  am  in  earnest.  I  have  resolved,  and 
whether  you  help  me  or  not  I  will  go." 

The  boy  shook  his  head. 

"  How  can  you?" 

"You  must  find  the  means,  and  go  with  me.  It  is 
this  that  I  meant  when  I  said  you  must  help  me. 
Think!  think!  Walter!  Do  not  fail  me  now." 

He  was  mastered  by  her  excitement  and  began  to 
reflect — his  face  as  flushed  as  her  own. 

"  It  is  a  desperate  attempt,  Miss  Fanny,"  he  said  at 
length,  "  but  it  is  not  impossible." 

"  Ah,  I  knew  you  would  think  of  a  plan.  You  are 
as  intelligent  as  you  are  brave  !  What  is  it  ? " 

Thus  appealed  to,  Walter  said  : 

"  It  is  this,  Miss  Fanny — but  where  could  you  go — 
to  what  house,  even  if  we  reached  Petersburg?" 

"  Do  not  trouble  yourself  about  that,  Walter.  I  have 
a  dear  friend  who  will  be  too  glad  to  see  me.  What  is 
your  plan  ?  Make  haste.  Time  is  passing — passing!" 

The  boy  at  once  proceeded  to  inform  the  young  lady 
of  his  plan.  This  was  to  cross  the  river  in  a  boat,  pro- 
cure horses,  which  he  felt  sure  he  would  be  able  to  do, 
and  then  he  and  the  young  lady  would  set  out  straight 
for  Petersburg,  ride  into  the  British  lines  if  possible 
unseen,  and  if  they  could  not  enter  the  town  without 
capture,  submit  to  that.  They  would  represent  them- 
selves as  residents  of  the  place,  recently  on  a  visit  to 
friends  in  the  country,  and  if  this  was  hot  sufficient,  as 
a  last  resource  they  could  inform  their  captors  that 
they  had  important  information  to  convey  to  Gen.  Phil- 


THE    COURAGE    OF   A    GIRL.  79 

lips — which   would   ultimately   ensure   the   interview 
which  the  young  lady  desired  with  the  British  General. 

"  For  that  is  what  you  wish,  is  it  not,  Miss  Fanny  ? " 
said  the  youth. 

"Yes,  yes  !  and  you  may  say  with  a  clear  conscience 
that  I  have  important  information.  This  here — in  this 
paper ! "  She  placed  her  hand  upon  her  hreast.  "  Yes, 
I  must  see  Gen.  Phillips  at  once.  And  now,  Walter, 
when  shall  we  go?" 

Everything  was  promptly  arranged.  Fanny  was  to 
return  to  the  house,  put  on  the  wrapping  made  neces- 
sary by  the  cool  night,  and,  stealing  undiscovered  from 
the  house,  meet  the  boy  at  a  spot  agreed  upon  on  the 
river's  bank,  where  he  would  have  the  boat  in  waiting. 
They  would  then  set  out  without  further  delay  on  their 
expedition. 

Half  an  hour  afterward  Fanny,  who  had  hastened 
back  to  Chats  worth,  stole  away,  her  figure  muffled  in 
a  cloak  and  hood,  from  the  mansion ;  hastened  by 
paths  well  known  to  her  through  the  moonlit  woods 
and  open  fields,  and  reached  the  point  on  the  river 
bank  which  they  had  fixed  upon.  Walter  was  await- 
ing her  in  a  small  row-boat  half  hidden  beneath  the 
boughs  of  a  large  oak,  and  assisted  her  into  the  little 
craft,  which  rose  and  fell  upon  the  surges  gleaming  in 
the  moonlight. 

At  the  last  moment  he  said  : 

"  Miss  Fanny,  I  am  afraid  this  is  a  wild  affair,  and  I 
do  not  know  that  I  ought  to  help  you  to  expose  your- 
self to  the  danger  of  a  night  ride  through  a  country 
which  is  occupied  by  the  British." 


80  CANOLLES. 

"I  must  risk  the  danger,  even  if  it  were  greater." 

"  Think—" 

"No,  Walter,  do  not  let  us  think,  or  if  we  think  of 
anything  let  it  be  of  the  death  that  is  hanging  over — 
one  you  love.  We  must  not  think.  There  are  times, 
Walter,  when  desperate  expedients  must  be  resorted 
to.  I  must  do  what  is  in  my  power  to-night,  or  I  should 
be  miserable  to  the  day  of  my  death.  Come,  come,  do 
not  delay.  Every  moment  is  precious  !  " 

Her  passionate  words  overcame  all  the  youth's  scru- 
ples. Taking  the  oars,  he  sent  the  boat  with  one  long, 
vigorous  sweep  into  the  current,  and  in  ten  minutes  it 
had  disappeared  like  a  waning  shadow  in  the  moonlit 
night. 


THE    COURT-MARTIAL.  81 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    COURT-MARTIAL. 

Our  narrative  has  been  obliged  to  pass  from 'camp 
to  camp — to  return,  as  it  were,  on  its  steps,  and  to  relate 
what  occurred  in  different  places  nearly  at  the  same 
moment. 

All  the  scenes  described  in  the  pages  immediately 
preceding  took  place  on  the  afternoon  of  the  10th  of 
May.  One  other  scene  on  the  same  day  and  almost  at 
the  same  hour  is  still  necessary  to  an  intelligent  com- 
prehension of  the  events  which  befell  the  personages 
of  the  drama. 

Nearly  at  the  instant  when  Henry  Cartaret  requested 
the  Marquis  de  Lafayette  to  authorize  his  night  attack 
for  the  rescue  of  Canolles,  and  when  Fanny,  with 
flushed  cheeks  and  heaving  bosom,  was  reading  the 
paper  brought  to  her  by  Walter,  a  court-martial  con- 
sisting of  six  officers,  presided  over  by  the  seventh,  had 
assembled  in  a  tent  pitched  on  one  of  the  Blandford 
hills,  near  the  old  church  of  that  name,  and  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  Gen.  Phillips'  headquarters. 

The  marquee  had  no  furniture  but  a  common  pine 
table,  a  few  chairs  and  a  camp  couch.  On  the  latter 
was  seated,  in  a  careless  attitude,  Col.  Lord  Ferrers, 
the  Judge-Advocate. 

From  time  to  time  Col.  Ferrers  looked  with  ill-con- 
cealed distaste,  even  with  covert  hostility ,  at  the  presid- 
6 


82  CANOLLES. 

ing  officer  of  the  court-martial,  who  wore  the  uniform 
of  a  brigadier-general.  He  was  a  man  of  middle  age, 
with  a  hawk  nose,  glittering  and  waiy  eyes,  firm  lips, 
and  a  defiant  expression,  such  as  may  be  seen  on  the 
faces  of  men  conscious  that  all  around  them  are 
unfriendly.  A  slight  limp,  observable  when  he  moved, 
seemed  to  indicate  that  one  of  his  leg's  was  a  false  one. 

o 

His  entire  personal  appearance  was  striking,  but  not 
very  pleasant  Such,  to  the  outward  eye,  was  Gen. 
Benedict  Arnold,  the  unshrinking  soldier,  but  the  po- 
litical Judas  of  America. 

His  connection  with  the  court-martial  assembled  to 
try  Canolles — for  that  was  the  object  of  the  court — 
was  of  his  own  choice,  and  may  be  explained  in  a  very 
few  words.  The  wagon  containing  the  gold  carried 
off  by  the  partisans  had  been  under  charge  of  Arnold's 
division,  holding  the  rear.  The  disappearance  of  the 
treasure,  reflecting  as  it  did  upon  Arnold,  had  excited 
his  wrath  to  the  utmost,  and  having  met  Col.  Ferrers, 
and  learned  from  him  that  Canolles  was  to  be  court- 
martialed  immediately,  he  had  volunteered  to  preside 
over  the  court.  To  this  Col.  Ferrers  had  demurred, 
saying  that  it  wras  unprecedented  for  a  general  officer 
to  take  part  in  the  trial  of  so  obscure  a  person.  But 
Arnold  had  insisted,  Ferrers  had  been  obliged  to  yield, 
and  when  the  court  assembled,  Gen.  Arnold  appeared 
as  the  presiding  officer. 

He  sat  now  at  the  head  of  a  camp  table,  stiff,  cold  and 
unbending.  On  his  dark  face  seemed  written  in  letters 
of  fire  the  consciousness  that  the  British  officers  around 
him  in  their  inmost  hearts  despised  him. 


THE    COURT-MARTIAL.  83 

He  raised  a  paper  from  the  table,  and  said  in  a  hard 
and  metallic  voice : 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  Board,  you  will  please  answer  to 
your  names.77 

The  list  was  then  read,  beginning  with  the  name  of 
Col.  Ferrers,  Judge-Advocate,  and  each  man  replied 
"  Present "  when  his  name  was  pronounced. 

"You  are  aware,  gentlemen,"  Arnold  then  said, 
"  that  this  Board  is  assembled  to  examine  into  the  case 
of  the  man  Canolles,  who  robbed  the  convoy  last  night 
of  the  money  for  the  pay  of  the  troops.  The  question 
to  be  examined  will  be  whether  the  attack  was  made 
by  regularly  enrolled  soldiers  of  the  American  army, 
or  by  common  marauders.  Is  it  your  pleasure  that 
the  prisoner  should  now  be  introduced  ?  " 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply  of  Ferrers  and  the  other 
officers. 

"  Bring  in  the  man  Canolles." 

At  ihis  order,  a  sergeant  stationed  at  the  door  of  the 
tent  made  a  sign  to  some  one  without,  and  a  moment 
afterwards  Canolles  was  ushered  into  the  tent.  He 
advanced  with  a  lirm  tread,  surveying  the  members 
of  the  court  one  by  one,  after  which  his  eyes  remained 
intently  fixed  upon  Gen.  Arnold. 

"Are  you  the  person  called  Canolles?"  said  the 
latter. 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply. 

"Was  it  you  who  attacked  the  convoy  last  night?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Are   you    or   are  you    not   a   regularly    enrolled 


84  CANOLLES. 

soldier  or  commissioned  officer  of  the  American  army, 
fighting  under  the  American  flag  ?  " 

"  Before  replying  to  that  question,"  replied  Canolles, 
in  his  unmoved  voice,  "  I  desire  to  address  a  question 
in  my  turn  to  the  President  of  the  Board." 

"  Ask  it,"  said  Arnold. 

"  Is  or  is  not  the  President  of  the  Board  Brigadier- 
General  Arnold  ?  " 

Arnold's  eyes  suddenly  flashed— it  might  have  been 
supposed  that  he  suspected  what  was  coming. 

"  The  meaning  of  your  question  ?  "  he  said.  "  You 
are  arraigned  here  to  be  tried,  and  it  is  for  the  court  to 
interrogate  you,  not  for  you  to  interrogate  the  court." 

"  Is  there  a  Judge- Advocate  present? "  said  Canolles, 
coolly: 

"  Yes,"  said  Ferrers.,  rising,  "  I  am  the  Judge- 
Advocate." 

"You  represent  both  the  court  and  the  person 
arraigned,"  said  Canolles.  "  Is  or  is  not  my  question 
a  proper  one  ?  " 

Ferrers  grunted,  and  grumbled  out  sardonically : 

"  A  devilish  mysterious  one — don't  understand  it — 
but  don't  see  what  harm  there  is  in  asking  it  if  it  is 
your  fancy." 

Arnold  set  his  teeth  close,  and  said  with  suppressed 
wrath : 

"  I  waive  further  objection ;  what  is  your  question  ?  " 

"I  repeat  it,"  said  Canolles.  "  Is  or  is  not  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Board  Gen.  Benedict  Arnold  ? " 

"lam." 


THE    COURT-MARTIAL.  85 

"Then- 1  protest  against  trial  by  a  court  over  which 
he  presides." 

"You  protest?" 

"  Gen.  Benedict  Arnold  is  a  traitor  !  " 

The  words  were  pronounced  clearly  and  coolly, 
Canolles  fixing  his  eyes  as  he  spoke  intently  on  the 
face  of  the  person  he  addressed.  Arnold  rose  to  his 
feet,  pale  with  rage,  and  seemed  about  to  rush  upon 
Canolles. 

"  Insolent  wretch ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  what  do  you 
mean  by  daring  to  grossly  insult  the  court?" 

"I  mean,"  said  Canolles,  "that  Gen.  Benedict 
Arnold  attempted  to  sell  his  country  for  £10,000 — the 
exact  sum  carried  off  last  night  by  myself,  sword  in 
hand — and  betrayed  a  brave  young  Englishman,  John 
Andre,  to  his  death.  The  President  questions  me — I 
reply.  I  demand  a  fair  trial — to  be  tried  by  a  court 
presided  over  by  an  officer  and  a  gentleman." 


86  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

CANOLLES   AND   ARNOLD. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  effect  of  the  words 
uttered  by  Canolles  on  Gen.  Arnold  and  the  officers  of 
the  court. 

"  I  call  on  the  officers  present  to  protect  the  dignity 
of  the  court  from  this  gross  outrage !  "  gasped  Gen. 
Arnold  with  positive  rage. 

Lord  Ferrers  grinned. 

"  The  fact  is,"  he  said,  with  a  gruff  sound  which  was 
a  grunt  or  a  laugh,  "  the  proceeding  of  the  prisoner  is 
highly  irregular." 

Arnold's  brow  knit  fiercely,  and  he  said  : 

"  Col.  Ferrers  is  moderate  in  his  characterization  of 
this  insolence !  " 

Ferrers  uttered  the  same  ambiguous  sound. 

"  I  would  observe  to  the  court,"  he  said,  "  that  this 
discussion  interrupts  the  business  before  it.  The  pro- 
test of  the  prisoner  is  a  matter  of  no  moment.  If  the 
court  is  ready,  I  will  proceed  to  interrogate  him,  and 
we  will  hear  what  he  has  to  say." 

Arnold  sat  down,  pale,  and  suppressing  his  rage  with 
difficulty,  for  he  saw  on  the  faces  of  the  officers  that  they 
secretly  sympathized  with  the  defiant  protest  of  Ca- 
nolles. 

"  I  am  content,"  Arnold  said  in  a  low  and  stern  voice, 
for  this  man  of  unfaltering  nerve  seemed  inaccessible  to 


CANOLLES    AND    ARNOLD.  87 

such  emotion  as  would  have  characterized  another,  "  I 
am  content  that  the  examination  of  the  prisoner  shall 
proceed  without  further  interruption,  and  to  make  no 
reply  to  his  insolent  speech — a  speech  which,  if  uttered 
by  an  officer  and  a  gentleman,  should  be  answered  at 
the  sword's  point!  The  examination  will  proceed." 

Ferrers  turned  to  the  prisoner  and  said: 

"  Well,  as  that  matter  is  decided,  my  friend,  I  advise 
you  to  cease  this  irregular  and  unpleasant  protesting, 
and  answer  the  questions  I  ask  you,  or  those  asked  by 
the  Board — to  begin — " 

"It  is  useless,"  said  Canolles  calmly.  "I  will  save 
the  court  the  trouble  of  interrogating  me  by  making  a 
general  statement." 

"  Exculpating  yourself?  " 

"  Condemning  myself." 

"  Stop,"  said  Ferrers,  rising  and  confronting  the 
prisoner.  "  You  are  a  brave  fellow,  Candies,  whether 
you  are  a  marauder  or  not,  and  it  shall  not  be  said  that 
George  Ferrers,  acting  as  Judge- Advocate,  allowed  an 
accused  to  sign  his  own  death-warrant." 

Canolles  shook  his  head. 

"  I  have  known  from  the  first  that  I  was  a  dead  man, 
Colonel,"  he  said,  "  otherwise  I  should  not  have  ac- 
knowledged my  true  character  to  Gen.  Phillips  and 
yourself.  Were  I  to  assert  now  that  I  am  an  American 
soldier,  fighting  under  the  American  flag,  what  would 
be  the  difficulty  in  ascertaining  the  truth  of  my  state- 
ment ?  You  have  only  to  send  a  flag  to  Gen.  Lafayette, 
and  I  inform  you  now  what  the  reply  would  be  :  That 
the  person  called  Canolles  is  not  an  American  soldier, 


88  CANOLLES. 

nor  commissioned  officer ;  that  he  makes  war  on  his 
own  account ;  that  he  cannot  be  exchanged,  and,  being 
outside  the  pale  of  military  law,  must  be  left  to  his  fate." 

A  murmur  ran  through  the  court,  and  every  eye 
was  fixed  upon  Canolles. 

"  The  devil !  "  muttered  Ferrers,  "  there's  nothing  to 
reply  to  that ;  but  of  all  the  cool  hands — " 

He  left  the  sentence  unfinished,  and,  addressing 
Canolles,  said : 

"  You  are  right,  friend ;  there  are  witnesses  enough 
to  prove  everything,  and  the  Marquis  Lafayette  could 
do  nothing  for  you.  I  swear  I  regret  it — I  respect  a 
man,  marauder  or  no  marauder,  who  faces  death  as  you 
do.  But  what  infernal  idea  ever  got  into  your  head, 
inducing  you  to  risk  yourself  so,  fighting  under  no 
flag  ?  I  am  myself  an  English  soldier  and  prefer  my 
own  colors,  but  a  flag  carried  by  a  man  like  George 
"Washington  might  suit  you,  I  think." 

"  I  do  not  like  the  American  flag,"  was  the  reply  of 
Canolles. 

"  Humph! — tell  me  why." 

"  It  is  useless,  sir — the  considerations  preventing  me 
from  fighting  under  the  American  colors  are  purely 
personal." 

A  species  of  growl  and  sigh  mingled  issued  from 
beneath  the  white  mustache  of  Col.  Ferrers,  and  he 
knit  his  brows. 

"You  will  not  explain  anything,  then?"  he  said. 
"Reflect;  there  may  be  circumstances  connected  with 
your  refusal  to  act  with  the  enemies  of  England  which 


CANOLLES    AND    ARNOLD.  89 

will  operate  upon  the  court  and  affect  their  decision  in 
your  case." 

Canolles  shook  his  head. 

"  There  are  no  such  circumstances." 

"  Give  us  an  opportunity  to  form  our  own  opinion, 
at  least." 

"  Useless,  Colonel,  wholly  useless,  and  certain  con- 
siderations make  it  unagreeable  to  me  to  enter  upon 
the  subject." 

Again  Ferrers  uttered  the  sound  resembling  a  grunt 
and  a  sigh. 

"  What  all  this  means,  Heaven  only  knows,"  he 
growled,  "  and  of  all  the  affairs  in  which  I  have  been 
engaged — come  !  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  Canolles ! 
I  swear  you  are  no  mere  low-born  plunderer — you  are 
a  gentleman,  born  and  bred,  if  I  am  entitled  to  form  an 
opinion,  and  there  is  something  behind  all  this.  Come  ! 
don't  be  a  Quixote  !  Who  and  what  are  you  really  ?  " 

Canolles  shook  his  head. 

"I  am  not  a  Quixote,  and  nothing  I  could  tell  you 
could  affect  your  decision." 

Ferrers  sat  down  with  an  expression  of  furious  ill- 
humor,  and  Arnold  said: 

"  Is  the  court  ready  to  consider  the  case  ?  As  the 
accused  acknowledges  the  charges  it  is  useless  to  sum- 
mon witnesses  to  prove  them.  There  is  now  but  one 
question  for  the  court  to  decide — what  punishment  and 
form  of  punishment  should  be  visited  on  one  entering 
the  British  lines  at  night,  without  a  flag,  and —  " 

Canolles  turned  quickly  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon 
Gen.  Arnold  so  abruptly  that  he  paused. 


90  CANOLLES. 

"  Is  it  permitted  me  to  ask  the  president  of  the  court 
a  question  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  said  Ferrers,  before  Arnold  could  reply. 
"  Yes  !  The  request  is  a  small  one  for  a  brave  fellow 
in  your  position." 

"  I  proceed  to  ask  it,"  said  Canolles,  who  had  never 
moved  his  eyes  from  the  face  of  Gen.  Arnold.  "  The 
President  of  the  court  affirms  that  the  question  before 
the  court  is  the  proper  punishment  arid  mode  of  pun- 
ishment of  a  man  entering  the  British  lines  at  night 
without  a  flag.  Is  that  the  shape  in  which  the  question 
is  to  be  propounded?" 

"  It  is,"  said  Arnold. 

"  It  is  proposed,  therefore,  to  inflict  upon  me  the 
death  of  a  spy  ?'" 

"Yes." 

"  Does  the  President  of  the  court  rely  on  military 
precedent  for  that  decision  ?" 

"I  do." 

"  What  precedent  ?  The  execution  of  Major  John 
Andre?" 

Arnold  started  as  if  some  venomous  reptile  had  bit- 
ten him,  and  in  spite  of  his  enormous  self-control 
turned  suddenly  pale. 

"  I  will  make  my  question  plainer,"  added  Canolles, 
who  spoke  as  coolly  as  before.  "  Major  John  Andre, 
Adjutant- General  of  the  British  army,  entered — no,  he 
did  not  enter,  he  was  betrayed  into — the  American 
lines  in  a  manner  probably  well  known  to  the  President 
and  members  of  this  Board.  He  was  arrested,  tried, 
and  the  verdict  of  the  American  court-martial  was  that 
Major  Andre  having  entered  their  lines  at  night  and 


CANOLLES    AND    ARNOLD.  91 

without  a  flag,  ought  to  be  considered  as  a  spy,  and  as 
such  was  executed  by  hanging,  not  by  shooting.  Is  it 
the  precedent  in  the  case  of  Major  Andre  that  the  Presi- 
dent of  this  court  relies  on  in  my  case,  approving  it?" 

At  these  words  there  was  a  dead  silence  in  the  tent — 
a  silence  so  deep  that  the  measured  steps  of  a  sentinel 
fifty  yards  distant  were  distinctly  heard. 

Gren.  Arnold,  wrhose  eyes  burned  like  fire  in  his  pale 
face,  was  seen  twice  to  attempt  to  speak;  but  each  time 
something  seemed  to  rise  in  his  throat  and  choke  him. 

"  The  President  of  the  court  does  not  reply,"  said 
Canolles,  whose  face  had  assumed  an  expression  of  ex- 
treme disdain,  "  then  he  doubtless  means  that  he  ap- 
proves the  death  by  hanging  of  John  Andre,  of  the 
British  army.  Well,  sir,  I — a  mere  robber  and  marau- 
der, as  you  take  me — I  disapprove  it.  I  say  that  John 
Andre  was  not  a  spy,  and  according  to  military  law 
was  guilty  of  nothing  unworthy  of  an  officer  and  a 
gentleman.  I  say  if  expediency  required  his  execution 
he  ought  to  have  been  shot  like  a  soldier,  not  hanged 
like  a  felon.  I  say  more,  sir,  and  am  glad  to  have  the 
occasion  to  say  it — that  in  my  opinion  the  person  de- 
serving death  was  the  American  officer  who  betrayed 
him,  as  he  betrayed  his  country,  for  money — Brigadier- 
General  Benedict  Arnold.  I  am  a  mere  freebooter, 
you  say,  sir,  and  you  are  going  to  shoot  or  hang  me. 
Well,  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor  that  I  would  rather 
be  shot  or  hanged  than  to  wear  the  uniform  you  wear 
at  the  price  you  paid  for  it." 

Arnold  seemed  ready  to  start  from  his  seat  with  fury. 
His  dark  face  turned  white  with  rage,  audit  is  probable 
that  but  for  the  interposition  of  Col.  Ferrers  some  scene 


92  CANOLLES. 

of  actual  violence  would  have  ensued.  Ferrers  gave 
an  order  to  the  guard,  Canolles  was  conducted  under 
guard  from  the  tent,  and  in  the  midst  of  unheard-of 
agitation  the  court  proceeded  to  consider  the  prisoner's 
case. 

There  was  little  hope  of  mitigating  his  punishment. 
The  charges  were  acknowledged — that  the  prisoner 
had  with  hostile  intent  entered  the  British  lines  at 
night,  without  uniform,  flag  or  commission ;  and  in 
spite  of  the  appeals  of  Lord  Ferrers,  which  were  short 
and  full  of  rude  eloquence,  the  verdict  of  the  court  was 
that  the  prisoner  Canolles  ought  to  suffer  death. 

"What  death?"  said  Ferrers,  in  his  roughest  and 
harshest  accents,  glancing  at  Arnold  as  he  spoke ;  "be- 
cause I  give  the  court  notice  that  if  any  attempt  be 
made  to  inflict  the  penalty  of  hanging,  I  have  Gen. 
Phillips'  promise — his  promise  as  a  man  of  honor,  sir — 
that  the  form  of  death  shall  be  shooting ;  and  before  I 
will  sign  as  Judge-Advocate  any  other  decision  of  this 
court,  I  will  retire  from  my  official  place  here,  or  I  will 
tear  up  the  paper  when  it  is  laid  before  me ! " 

Arnold,  trembling  with  rage,  could  only  mutter, 
hoarsely : 

u  It  is  for  the  court  to  decide." 

The  vote  was  taken,  and  it  was  decided  that  the  pris- 
oner should  be  shot  to  death. 

The  court  then  rose,  and  the  verdict  was  transmitted 
to  Gen.  Phillips,  lying  burnt  up  with  fever  at  Boiling- 
brook  House,  who  affixed  his  trembling  signature  to  it, 
and  appointed  sunrise  on  the  next  morning  as  the  time 
of  the  prisoner's  execution. 


THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION.        93 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION. 

It  was  between  eleven  and  twelve  o'clock  at  night. 
Canolles  was  seated  writing  at  a  table  in  a  room  of  a 
small  house  not  far  from  Blandford  Church.  This 
house  had  been  the  residence  of  a  citizen  of  the  town 
who  had  fled  with  his  family  on  the  approach  of  the 
British  forces,  and  had  been  taken  possession  of  as  the 
quarters  of  the  officer  of  the  guard,  and  a  place  of  im- 
prisonment for  persons  arrested  by  the  provost  of  the 
army.  Canolles  had  been  conducted  thither  when  dis- 
missed from  further  attendance  on  the  court-martial, 
and  confined  in  one  of  the  apartments,  with  a  sentinel 
before  his  door. 

He  was  now  seated,  as  we  have  said,  at  a  table  upon 
which  burned  a  single  tallow  candle,  and  was  busily 
engaged  in  writing — pen,  ink  and  paper  having  been 
readily  supplied  him  by  the  officer  of  the  guard,  who, 
himself  a  soldier,  had  a  soldier's  sympathy  for  a  man 
who  faced  his  fate  with  the  coolness  of  the  prisoner. 

A  painful  interest  always  attaches  to  the  demeanor 
and  conduct  of  a  human  being  who  is  about  to  find 
closing  upon  him  the  dark  door  of  the  tomb,  and  who 
knows  that  it  is  about  to  close  upon  him.  That  moment 
is  calculated  to  test  the  courage  of  the  human  heart 
arid  try  the  steadiest  nerves.  But  yesterday  free,  safe, 
alive  with  the  fullest  life,  and  now  fettered,  condemned, 


94  CANOLLES. 

with  death  approaching  steadily  and  surely  !  At  one 
instant  a  strong  and  active  man,  with  every  pulse 
bounding,  every  muscle  obedient  to  the  will,  every  vein 
full  of  warm,  red  blood,  with  the  sun  shining  for  you, 
the  birds  singing,  with  the  laughter  of  happy  children 
in  your  ears,  and  all  the  abounding  charms  of  various 
and  delightful  life  your  own  ;  and  at  the  next  moment, 
or  soon,  so  soon !  to  be  an  inert  clod  without  sense  or 
motion!  The  nerves  are  tried  at  such  a  time,  and  a 
man  shows  speedily  whether  he  is  brave  or  the  opposite. 
It  was  plain  that  Canolles  was  a  brave  man.  His 
face  was  quite  composed,  arid  his  hand  perfectly  firm 
as  he  continued  to  write  on  steadily.  He  was  still 
engaged  in  writing  when  a  step  was  heard  without,  a 
brief  colloquy  ensued,  apparently  between  the  sentinel 
and  some  other  person,  then  the  door  opened  and  Lord 
Ferrers  came  in. 

The  old  militaire  was  as  erect  and  gruff  as  ever,  his 
tall  figure  towered  as  stiffly  as  was  its  wont,  and  his 
snow-white  mustache  covered  lips  as  bluff  and  firm  in 
their  expression  as  before.  Looking  closer,  .neverthe- 
less, any  one  might  have  seen  in  the  old  soldier's  eyes 
an  unusual  softness — an  unmistakable  trouble.  He 
looked  at  Canolles  for  a  moment  without  speaking, 
then  he  advanced  rapidly,  holding  out  his  hand,  and 
growled : 

"Well,  comrade,  I'm  come  to  see  you." 
Canolles  rose,  pressed  the  hand  held  out,  and  said: 
"Thanks,  my  dear  Colonel.     But  I  did  not  require 
any  assurance  that  your  visit  was  the  visit  of  a  friend — 
of  one  soldier  to  another  who  is  about  to  die." 


THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION.        95 

"  You  are  right,"  returned  Ferrers  in  his  curt  voice, 
each  word  jerked,  as  it  were,  from  his  lips,  "  and  I  take 
no  credit  to  myself  for  coming.  I  can't  sleep.  This 
devilish  affair  of  yours  keeps  me  awake.  What  infernal 
complication  of  diabolical  circumstances  ever  got  you 
into  this  hobble?  I'll  tell  you  one  thing.  If  you  don't 
relieve  my  mind  on  this  subject  it  will  torture  me  all 
my  life.  Good  Heavens !  Here  you  are  throwing  away 
your  chances  of  life — there  may  be  chances ;  you  are 
no  mere  plunderer.  What  in  Heaven's  name  ever 
brought  you  to  this  wild  plan  of  fighting  under  no  flag? " 

Canolles  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  his  right  arm  rest- 
ing on  the  table,  and  seemed,  from  the  absent  expres- 
sion of  his  eyes  and  the  fingers  drumming  on  the  table, 
to  be  lost  in  reflection.  Ferrers,  seated  opposite,  looked 
intently  at  him,  and  if  the  old  nobleman's  thoughts  had 
been  translated  into  words,  these  words  would  probably 
have  been:  "What  cursed  nonsense  to  say  that  this 
man  is  alow  marauder!"  Indeed,  everything  about 
Canolles,  face,  figure,  bearing — every  expression  and 
attitude,  however  unconscious,  indicated  high  breeding. 
You  might  have  conceived  that  this  human  being  had 
been  led  to  the  commission  of  crime,  perhaps — to  be- 
lieve him  capable  of  plundering  from  mere  love  of 
money  was  impossible. 

For  some  moments  Canolles  remained  sunk  in  this 
pensive  mood — a  species  of  reverie  taking  him  away 
from  the  actual  place  and  time — then  he  awoke,  as  it 
were,  and  said: 

"  I  must  beg  you  to  pardon  my  ill-breeding,  Colonel  • 
I  fear  I  am  becoming  too  much  addicted  to  this  bad 


96  CANOLLES. 

habit  of  reverie — but  there  is  scarcely  time  now  to 
break  myself  of  it,"  he  added  with  a  smile.  "I  shall 
never  be  cured  of  it!" 

Ferrers  knit  his  brows. 

"Stop  that  smiling,  comrade,"  he  growled,  "and 
don't  make  me  like  you  any  better  than  I  do  !  Do  you 
know  whom  you  resemble  when  you  smile  in  that 
way  ? " 

"Kesemble?" 

"Yes." 

"  Do  I  resemble  any  one  else  ?" 

"  Yes,  you  do — you  are  the  image,  the  very  picture 
of  Hartley  Ferrers." 

"Who  is  Hartley  Ferrers?"  said  Canolles. 

Ferrers  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  in  silence — a 
look  keen  and  sorrowful. 

"  I  think,  sometimes,"  he  said,  "  that  you  are  Hart- 
ley!" 

"  My  dear  Colonel,"  said  Canolles,  "  you  have  not 
even  told  me  who  the  person  you  refer  to  is,  or  was." 

"  He  was  my  son." 

"  Your  son  ?  " 

"Yes,"  grunted  Lord  Ferrers,  "  a  poor,  impulsive 
boy — couldn't  control  him — wild  for  adventure,  new 
countries  and  the  life  of  a  wanderer.  Poor  fellow ! 
instead  of  being  contented  with  home,  he  went  off, 
shipped  on  board  an  outward-bound  vessel,  and  was 
never  heard  of  afterwards." 

"  A  very  sad  event,  Colonel,  and  I  sincerely  sympa- 
thize with  you  in  your  affliction." 

The  old  militaire  sighed. 


THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION.        97 

"  All  the  worse  as  I  have  no  other  children,  and  Lady 
Ferrers  is  long  since  dead.  The  strange  thing  is  that 
you  so  closely  resemble  my  poor  Hartley,  which  will 
account  in  some  measure  for  my  liking  you,  comrade. 
Your  resemblance  to  the  poor  boy  is  startling.  But  it 
is,  of  course,  a  mere  coincidence — an  accident." 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Canolles. 

"  And  now,"  said  Ferrers,  "  to  come  to  the  object  of 
this  visit." 

"  It  has,  then,  an  object  other  than  to  soothe  the  last 
moments  of  a  brother  soldier  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  What  object,  Colonel  ?  " 

"  To  save  you,  if  I  can,  from  the  bullets  that  will  tear 
you  to  pieces  at  sunrise." 

Canolles  shook  his  head. 

"You  cannot  save  me  Colonel,"  he  said  with  a  smile, 
"  unless  you  have  devised  some  scheme  which  has  never 
yet  occurred  to  my  mind." 

"I  have  devised  the  scheme — to  obtain  from  you  a 
full  statement  of  the  motives  inducing  you  to  make 
war  on  the  British  forces  in  Virginia,  without  doing  so 
under  the  protection  of  the  American  flag.  -  The  devil. 
Do  you  suppose  that  I  am  an  idiot  and  don't  see  that 
something  must  be  under  this  infernal  folly  of  yours, 
Canolles  ?  Do  you  suppose  that  you  can  fool  me  into 
the  belief  that  you.  are  a  common  highwayman,  read} 
to  take  a  purse ;  or  a  low  thief  stealing  money  frorn 
Gen.  Phillips'  chest  for  love  of  the  money  and  nothing 
else  ?  If  you  think  so,  you  are  daft,  as  they  say  in  Scot- 
land. You  are  a  gentleman.  I'll  swear  you  are  in  every 
7 


98  CANOLLES. 

sense  a  man  of  honor ;  and  now  speak,  comrade ! 
Tell  me  what  drove  you  to  this  cursed  blunder,  and  I'll 
go  tell  Phillips." 

Again  Canolles  shook  his  head.  Leaning  his  right 
elbow  on  the  table,  he  rested  his  temple  lightly  upon 
his  hand,  in  an  attitude  of  easy  grace,  and  said  : 

"  My  dear  Colonel,  do  you  know  it  is  a  matter  of 
regret  to  me  that  I  have  made  your  acquaintance  so 
late  ?  Your  sympathy  quite  moves  me,  and  makes  me 
long  to  live  to  know  you  better.  Unfortunately,  your 
plan  is  useless." 

"  Useless?  " 

"  It  is  trouble  thrown  away.  There  is  nothing  in  my 
motives,  or  in  my  discarding  the  protection  of  the 
American  flag,  to  alter  the  decision  of  the  British  com- 
mander in  my  case." 

"  Hang  it !  let  me  judge!  You  acknowledge  that 
you  had  peculiar  reasons." 

"Certainly;  I  have  or  had  my  private  reasons.  I 
say  had,  you  see.  I  have  pretty  well  bidden  life  fare- 
well." 

Ferrers  repeated  obstinately,  knitting  his  brows  : 

"  Let  me  judge!  let  me  judge!" 

"  And  let* me  repeat,  Colonel,  that  it  is  chimerical  to 
indulge  any  expectation  of  affecting  the  action  of  Gen. 
Phillips  by  informing  him  of  my  personal  motives.  It 
was  impossible  for  him  to  act  otherwise  than  he  has 
done  under  the  circumstances.  Approval  of  the  find- 
ing of  the  court  was  a  necessity,  lam  perfectly  well 
acquainted  with  military  law,  and  knTnv  what  I  risked 
when  I  attacked  your  troops  last  night,  without  a  flag 


THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION.        99 

or  a  commission.  Call  me  what  you  will — spy,  rob- 
ber, what  not — it  is  immaterial.  My  punishment  is 
properly  death/' 

Ferrers  looked  at  the  man  who  uttered  these  cool 
words  with  a  singular  mixture  of  grief  and  anger. 

"  For  the  last  time,  Canolles,"  he  said,  "what  mys- 
tery is  under  all  this  affair?  Once  more,  I  say,  there 
is  no  deceiving  me  as  to  your  rank  or  character.  I 
have  lived  more  than  sixty  years  in  this  second-rate 
world,  and  I've  known  all  sorts  of  people — hob-nobbed 
with  Dukes  and  clinked  cups  with  beggars — and  I 
think  I  know  a  gentleman  when  I  see  one — and  you 
are  one,  and  as  brave  as  steel  to  boot." 

"  Thanks,  friend,  for  such  you  are." 

"  Your  friend  ?  Yes,  I  am  your  friend.  Do  you 
suppose  I  don't  make  up  my  own  opinions  ?  Do  you 
think  that  infernal  traitor  and  rascal  Arnold's  opinion 
of  you  had  any  effect  on  George  Ferrers  ?  If  you  do, 
you  are  most  damnably  mistaken  !  If  anything,  his 
hostility  to  you  raised  you  in  my  estimation.  I  don't 
call  a  scoundrel,  that  tries  to  sell  his  country  andiets 
a  brave  boy  like  Andre  go  to  his  death,  a  good  judge 
of  the  character  of  a  gentleman  and  soldier;  and  when 
you  told  him  as  much  in  the  court,  you  delighted  me 
— it  was  the  happiest  moment  I've  passed  for  years. 
Yes,  I  am  your  friend,  and  George  Ferrers  don't  make 
a  friend  of  everybody.  If  I  could  save  your  life,  I 
would  not  eat  or  sleep  till  I  had  saved  it." 

"  I  know  that,"  said  Canolles,  his  soldierly  face  lit 
up  by  a  bright  smile. 

"  And  you  will  not  aid  me,"  said  Ferrers. 


100  CANOLLES. 

"  It  would  be  useless  to  make  the  attempt.  To 
every  man  there  is  an  appointed  hour,  Colonel ;  he 
advances  to  that  hour  through  a  hundred  battles  un- 
harmed, but  when  the  hour  has  struck  he  falls.  Well, 
my  hour  has  come.  I  face  the  conviction  with  calm- 
ness, because  it  is  in  my  blood  not  to  shrink,  and  I  do 
not  regret  life  as  much,  perhaps,  as  you  suppose.  I 
have  lived  for  a  particular  object,  and  that  object,  I 
may  assure  you,  is  now  accomplished,  or  will  be.  Had 
you  not  captured  me  I  should  have  disbanded  my  men 
very  soon,  if  not  at  once,  and  disappeared  like  a  leaf 
blown  on  the  wind — I  should  have  left  Virginia  never 
to  return.  Well,  all  is  reversed,  you  see.  I  fall  into 
your  hands — you  take  my  life,  which  belongs  to  you — 
I  give  it  up  without  a  murmur — and  so  all  ends, 
Colonel!" 

Ferrers  inflated  his  chest  with  air  and  then  abruptly 
expelled  it. 

"  Canolles,"  he  said,  "  I'd  give  a  thousand  pounds  if 
you  had  escaped !  To  hear  you  talking  in  tnis  way 
just  before  you  are  shot  is  enough  to  make  a  man  cry 
like  a  baby.  To  think  that  you  are  to  come  to  your 
end  so  suddenly !  That  you  are  to  die  in  the  flush  of 
youth,  health,  strength,  happiness — r 

He  stopped  with  a  choking  intonation.  Canolles 
smiled. 

"  Are  .you  perfectly  certain  that  I  am  happy  and  will 
regret  life,  Colonel  ?  " 

"  You  ought  to." 

Canolles  shook  his  head  with  the  same  sad  smile. 

"  Humph  ! "  grunted  Ferrers,  attempting  to  conceal 


THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION.       101 

his  emotion  under  satire,  "  perhaps  it  is  a  matter  of 
indifference  to  you  whether  you  live  or  die  ? " 

"  To  be  frank  with  you,  it  is." 

Ferrers  looked  keenly  at  the  speaker. 

"  You  have  some  secret  trouble,  comrade." 

A  slight  color  slowly  stole  over  the  face  of  Canolles, 
and  he  said  in  a  low  voice : 

"Yes." 

"  Can  I  do  nothing  to  relieve  you  of  it?" 

"  Nothing it  is  hopeless,"  was  the  reply,  in  the 

same  low  voice,  accompanied  by  a  heavy  sigh. 

"  Nothing  is  hopeless,"  grunted  Ferrers. 

"  This  is.  The  subject  depresses  me,  Colonel.  I 
need  all  my  good  spirits,  you  see,  and  to  speak  of  this 
would  make  me  profoundly  sorrowful.  My  life  has 
been  an  unfortunate  one — let  us  say  no  more.  But 
you  shall  know  all  about  it  when  I  am  dead." 

He  pointed  to  the  paper  which  he  had  been  writing, 
and  added : 

"  In  this  and  another  paper  I  have  stated  briefly  but 
clearly  the  motives  actuating  me  during  my  career,  Tor 
the  information  of  two  persons.  One  paper  has  by  this 
time  reached  its  destination.  Of  this,  which  I  have 
just  completed,  you  must  take  charge,  Colonel,  and  see 
that  it  is  delivered  to  the  person  whose  name  I  shall 
write  upon  it.  I  shall  not  seal  it — you  may  read  it  if 
you  desire  to  do  so." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Ferrers,  "does  that  paper 
lying  there  upon  that  table  contain  your  personal 
history  ?  " 

"  Yes." 


102  CANOLLES. 

"All  about  you?" 
"All." 

"An  explanation  of  your  object  in  making  war  on 
England  without  marching  under  the  American 
flag?" 

"  A  full  explanation." 

"  Humph  !  Then  as  you  have  no  objection  to  my 
reading  the  paper  hereafter,  I'll  read  it  now." 

He  extended  his  hand,  as  he  spoke,  toward  the 
paper,  but  Canolles  as  quickly  interposed  his  own  hand 
to  protect  it. 

"  Let  me  beg  you  to  delay  a  little  while,  friend. 
You  know  it  will  not  be  long." 

"  No ;  let  me  read  it  now.  Something  tells  me  that 
the  contents  of  that  paper  may,  if  known  to  me,  and 
in  turn  to  Gen.  Phillips,  have  a  vital  bearing  on  your 
fate." 

Canolles  replied  with  a  slow,  incredulous  movement 
of  his  head : 

"Again  I  assure  you  that  the  idea  is  chimerical. 
G-en.  Phillips  will  not,  cannot  allow  anything  here 
written  to  influence  him." 

"  Then  let  me  read  the  paper  for  my  own  personal 
satisfaction,"  exclaimed  Ferrers;  "you  cannot  deny  a 
request  so  slight  as  that,  Canolles,  to  the  man  you  call 
friend." 

Canolles  hesitated. 

"  It  would  only  lead,"  he  said,  "  to  questions,  discus- 
sions, further  explanations — and  all  that  would  simply 
make  me  gloomy,  without  any  imaginable  advantage, 
Colonel." 


THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  EXECUTION.       103 

But  Col.  Ferrers  seemed  to  have  obstinately  set  his 
mind  upon  seeing  the  writing  on  the  paper  before  the 
hour  of  the  prisoner's  execution. 

"  I  will  ask  you  no  questions — there  shall  be  no 
discussion. " 

He  extended  his  hand  once  more  toward  the  paper. 

"  Come,  let  me  see  it !  " 

Canolles  withdrew  his  own  hand,  saying  as  he  did 
so  : 

"  Well,  Colonel,  as  you  attach  so  much  importance 
to  reading  this,  which,  after  all,  you  will  be  at  liberty 
to  read  in  a  very  few  hours,  I  do  not  see  why  I  should 
further  oppose  your  desire.  Since  I  am  not  unwilling, 
and  even  desire,  that  you  should  know  my  history  and 
see  that  my  motives  have  not  been  mean  or  mercenary, 
why  should  I  refuse  your  request." 

"  I  may  read,  then  ? " 

"You  are  at  full  liberty  to  do  so,  Colonel." 

And  Canolles  leaned  back  in  his  seat,  pushing  the 
written  sheets  toward  the  old  soldier,  who  ardently 
extended  his  hand  to  grasp  them. 

Before  he  could  do  so  a  sudden  and  rapid  firing  was 
heard  in  the  vicinity  of  the  house,  and  through  the 
window  could  be  seen  quick  sheets  of  flame  lighting 
.up  the  night,  and  resembling  the  flash  of  the  fire-fly's 
light. 

Col.  Ferrers,  with  the  instinct  of  the  soldier,  started 
to  his  feet,  grasping  the  hilt  of  his  sword. 

"  An  attack !  "  he  exclaimed. 

Suddenly  the  long  roll   of   the   British  drum   was 


104  CANOLLES. 

heard,  and  shouts  and  orders  resounded — the  troops 
were  evidently  being  gotten  hastily  under  arms. 

"I  must  go  there!  "  exclaimed  Col.  Ferrers,  losing 
sight  of  all  else ;  and  in  the  midst  of  the  firing,  which 
still  continued  without  abatement,  he  hastily  left  the 
apartment. 


THE    NIGHT    ATTACK.  105 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE    NIGHT    ATTACK. 

Young  Harry  Cartaret,  at  the  head  of  twenty-five 
picked  men,  had  passed  the  Appomattox  by  wading 
and  swimming,  and  failing  to  surprise  and  overpower 
in  silence  the  picket  guards  upon  the  bank  of  the  river 
had  made  a  sudden  and  resolute  attack  on  nothing  less 
than  the  whole  British  army. 

In  proceeding  to  this  desperate  extremity  he  had  not 
acted  from  mere  foolhardiness  and  hair-brained  im- 
pulse. His  plan,  as  unfolded  to  Gen.  Lafayette,  had 
been  wholly  different,  and  by  no  means  uncertain  of 
success.  He  had  ascertained  from  a  thoroughly  trained 
scout  belonging  to  his  company,  whom  he  had  sent 
across  the  river  for  the  purpose,  that  Canolles  was  con- 
fined in  a  house  situated  only  a  short  distance  from  the 
banks  of  the  river;  and  he  relied  on  surprise,  not  on 
attack,  to  rescue  the  prisoner.  The  moon  would  set 
between  ten  and  eleven,  and  the  young  officer  then 
proposed  to  cross  the  river  in  silence,  under  cover  of 
darkness,  steal  upon  the  picket  guard  of  only  a  few 
men,  capture  or  overpower  them  without  the  use  of 
fire-arms,  in  order  to  avoid  an  alarm — and  in  the  event 
of  success,  the  rest  seemed  comparatively  easy.  The 
British  troops  would  be  apt  to  rely  with  confidence  on 
the  pickets  to  alarm  them  in  case  of  an  attack,  and  so 
obscure  a  prisoner  as  Canolles  would  not  probably  be 


106  CANOLLES. 

heavily  guarded.  Once  inside  the  British  line  of  sen- 
tries Cartaret  meant  to  advance  to  the  house,  surprise 
the  sentry  there,  take  him  prisoner  without  noise,  and 
then  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  pry  open  the  ordinary 
door  and  lock  confining  Canolles,  after  which  the  party 
would  return  as  quietly  as  they  came,  or  if  necessary 
cut  their  way  back  to  the  river,  plunge  in  and  escape. 

There  were  chances  that  his  reckless  project  would 
prove  fortunate.  War  largely  depends  on  surprising 
an  enemy ;  and  what  an  enemy  does  not  suspect  gen- 
erally succeeds.  Cartaret  relied  on  the  boldness  of  his 
plan  for  success,  and  on  the  excellent  composition  of 
the  detachment  he  commanded.  They  \vere  one  and 
all  thorough  fighters,  ready  to  follow  him  anywhere ; 
and  just  as  the  moon  sank  and  profound  darkness  set- 
tled down,  he  set  out  silently,  having  full  permission 
from  Lafayette,  and  soon  reached  the  banks  of  the 
river. 

All  was  still.  The  subdued  murmur  of  the  stream 
seemed  to  render  the  silence  still  more  profound. 
Cartaret  first  entered  the  sluggish  current,  which  gradu- 
ally grew  deeper;  it  mounted  now  to  the  waists  of  the 
young  man  and  his  followers;  then  to  the  shoulders  ; 
then  they  began  to  swim,  quietly  holding  their  arms 
out  of  the  water. 

Advancing  thus  like  a  line  of  shadows,  the  party 
gradully  drew  near  the  southern  bank,  and  under  the 
guidance  of  the  scout  whom  he  had  sent  across  to  gain 
information,  and  wrho  now  swam  beside  him,  Cartaret 
made  for  a  little  cove  overshadowed  by  drooping  boughs, 
where  a  landing  was  silently  effected. 


THE    NIGHT   ATTACK.  107 

Whispered  orders  were  now  passed  along  the  line 
that  the  men  should  look  to  their  pistols  to  ascertain  if 
the  powder  was  wet,  but  to  immediately  return  them 
to  their  belts,  and  on  no  account  to  use  them  unless  by 
express  orders.  This  was  silently  done,  dry  powder 
replaced  the  wet  in  cases  where  the  spray  had  damped 
the  priming,  the  arms  were  replaced,  and  Cartaret  then 
advanced  in  front  with  six  men,  crouching  down  and 
slowly  approaching  the  English  picket,  who  was  seen 
dimly  through  the  darkness  slowly  pacing  to  and  fro 
on  his  beat, 

Cartaret  waited  until  his  back  was  turned.  Then 
he  sprang  upon  him,  and  before  he  could  make  any 
resistance  or  discharge  his  musket,  seized  him  and 
made  him  prisoner.  Not  a  sound  had  been  heard.  So 
far  the  expedition  was  a  success.  The  man,  who  was 
quite  prostrated  by  the  suddenness  of  the  assault  on 
him,  was  ordered  to  keep  silent  on  peril  of  his  life — he 
exhibited  not  the  remotest  desire  or  intention  to  dis- 
obey the  order — and  Cartaret  at  the  head  of  his  men, 
and  guided  by  the  scout,  advanced  rapidly  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  house  in  which  Canolles  was  confined. 

Unfortunate!}^  the  intended  surprise  met  with  an 
unexpected  obstacle.  Gen.  Phillips  was  a  cautious 
soldier,  and  had  posted  an  interior  as  well  as  an  exterior 
picket,  and  on  this,  consisting  of  a  vidette  and  a  heavy 
picket  guard,  Cartaret  now  suddenly  came. 

At  the  very  moment  when  the  presence  of  this  guard 
was  ascertained,  the  guide  whispered  : 

"There  is  the  house,  Lieutenant." 

He  pointed  as  he  spoke  through  the  darkness,  and 


108  CANOLLES. 

Cartaret  saw  against  the  dull  night  sky  the  dim  outline 
of  the  house  occupied  by  Canolles. 

"It  is  impossible  to  surprise  the  picket! "  was  the  low 
reply  of  Cartaret,  whose  heart  sank. 

"  Yes,  Lieutenant,"  said  the  cool  fellow,  in  the  same 
tone,  "but  you  can  attack  it!" 

"Is  there  any  chance  of  success  ?  I  cannot  have  my 
men  cut  to  pieces  for  nothing." 

"Maybe  they'll  not  be  cut  to  pieces.  Everything  is 
in  a  surprise,  Lieutenant.  The  army's  asleep.  We-'ll 
capture  or  kill  the  guard  in  five  minutes." 

Cartaret  still  hesitated. 

"Do  you  think  the  men  will  follow  me?" 

"  Not  a  man  will  fail  you." 

"  Pass  the  word  then  for  every  man  to  have  his  arms 
ready.  If  the  surprise  fails,  we'll  depend  on  hard  fight- 
ing and  take  the  chances." 

"All  right,  Lieutenant." 

And  the  order  was  communicated  in  a  low  tone  to 
the  men,  who,  so  far  from  failing  their  commander, 
seemed  to  receive  it  with  enthusiasm. 

Cartaret  then  advanced  and  was  promptly  challenged. 
He  made  no  response,  and  the  discharge  of  the  senti- 
nel's musket  came  like  an  echo  to  the  challenge.  At 
this  sound  the  guard  suddenly  rose,  arms  in  hand, 
shouts  resounded,  a  rapid  firing  succeeded,  and  a  deter- 
mined combat  took  place  in  the  darkness,  lit  up  only 
by  the  quick  jets  of  flame  from  the  muzzles  of  the 
guns,  seen  by  Ferrers  and  Canolles. 

All  this  had  occurred  in  a  very  few  moments.  The 
picket  guard,  unfortunately  for  Cartaret,  chanced  to  be 


THE    NIGHT    ATTACK.  109 

composed  of  excellent  material;  and,  although  taken 
by  surprise  and  unaware  of  the  size  of  the  attacking 
force,  they  fought  obstinately,  thus  giving  Lord  Ferrers 
time  to  reach  the  scene  of  the  encounter. 

The  old  nobleman  with  drawn  sword  rushed  into  the 
midst  of  the  combatants.  The  tongues  of  flame  enabled 
him  to  take  in  the  whole  situation  at  a  glance ;  and 
shouting,  "Stand  fast,  men;  they  are  only  a  squad  I" 
he  advanced  in  front,  exposing  himself  needlessly  to 
the  American  fire. 

In  spite  of  the  obstinate  resistance  of  the  picket,  Car- 
taret  would  probably  have  overpowered  them,  reached 
the  house  and  carried  off  Canolles;  but  the  firing  had 
alarmed  the  forces,  the  hill  suddenly  swarmed  with  red 
coats,  and  by  order  of  Col.  Ferrers  the  assailants  were 
promptly  surrounded. 

Further  fighting  was  plainly  useless  on  the  part  of 
Cartaret — a  single  glance  assured  him  of  that — and  he 
gave  the  order  to  his  men  to  save  themselves.  A  num- 
ber of  them  succeeded  in  doing  so  in  the  darkness,  and 
Cartaret,  with  half  a  dozen  of  his  best  men,  covered 
their  retreat,  fighting  step  by  step  as  they  retired. 


110  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

TO    WHOM    CANOLLES    HAD    WRITTEN. 

It  soon  became  obvious  that  Cartaret  would  not  be 
able  to  effect  bis  retreat.  Suddenly  a  ring  of  red  coats 
closed  around  him. 

"  Surrender  !  "  cried  a  voice — that  of  Col.  Ferrers — 
and  the  glare  of  torches  hastily  kindled  at  a  camp-fire 
near  lit  up  the  figure  of  the  old  militaire,  sword  in  hand, 
six  feet  from  the  young  American  and  his  few  men. 

"  Surrender  !    To  whom  ?  "  was  the  reply. 

"  To  me,  Colonel  Ferrers — that  is  to  say,  unless  you 
prefer  being  cut  to  pieces  ! " 

As  he  spoke,  the  old  nobleman  lowered  his  sword 
and  burst  into  a  grim  laugh. 

"  Car-taret,  or  the  devil  take  me!"  he  exclaimed. 
"Saw  you  once  before — the  image  of  a  friend  of  mine. 
So  you  came  over  to  capture  the  army,  eh  ?" 

"  Not  precisely,  Colonel — I  surrender,  of  course." 

"A  night  attack  with  a  company,  within  a  stone's 
throw  of  headquarters!  What  a  farce!  But  that's 
your  lookout." 

"Yes." 

"  And  I've  no  fault  to  find.  George  Ferrers  in  his 
time  has  amused  himself  in  something  like  the  same 
way." 

Cartaret  took  his  sword  by  the  blade  and  presented 


TO    WHOM    CANOLLES    HAD    WRITTEN.  Ill 

the  hilt  to  Ferrers.  The  old  soldier  looked  at  him  with 
the  same  grim  humor,  and  grunted : 

"What's  that  for?" 

"  I  surrender  my  sword." 

"I  don't  want  your  sword.     Keep  it." 

He  turned  and  gave  an  order — the  troops  were 
directed  to  return  to  their  quarters  with  the  prisoners, 
except  Cartaret,  and  then  taking  the  young  man  fami- 
liarly by  the  arm,  Lord  Ferrers  said  : 

"  Come  on,  my  young  friend.  Phillips  will  wish  to 
ascertain  from  you  what  led  you  to  make  this  crazy 
attack,  and  as  the  poor  fellow  is  sick,  you  ought  to 
gratify  him." 

Cartaret  replied  gloomily: 

"  I  have  no  objection  to  inform  Gen.  Phillips  or  you, 
Colonel,  what  my  object  was." 

"  Well,  tell  me." 

"  I  came  to  rescue  a  prisoner  in  your  hands! " 

"  What  prisoner  ?  " 

"  His  name  is  Canolles." 

"  Canolles  !     You  came  over  to  rescue   Canolles  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Humph! — wonders  will  never  cease!  What  on 
earth  have  you  to  do  with  Canolles  ?  You  take  an 
interest  in  him  ?  " 

"  A  deep  interest." 

"Why?" 

"  It  is  my  secret,  or  rather  his  own." 

"  A  devilish  strange  fellow,  on  my  honor — this 
Canolles  !  There  is  no  end  of  mystery  about  him,  and 


112  CANOLLES. 

he  seems  to  make  friends  of  everybody.  The  fact  is  a 
curious  one,  as  he's  merely  a  highway  robber." 

"  I  assure  you,  Colonel,"  exclaimed  Cartaret,  "  that 
he  is  nothing  of  the  sort." 

"  Not  a  robber  ?" 

"ISTo  more  than  you  or  I!  " 

"Humph! — well,  you  don't  call  him  a  man  of  honor 
and  a  regular  soldier?" 

"  He  is  a  man  of  the  nicest  honor — whether  a  regular 
soldier  or  not  depends  on  technical  definition." 

"  He  fights  without  a  flag." 

"  True." 

"  Then  he  is  a  marauder,  unless  peculiar  circum- 
stances control  his  action." 

"  Such  peculiar  circumstances  exist." 

"What  are  they?" 

Cartaret  shook  his  head. 

"  I  have  informed  you,  Colonel,  that  the  origin  of 
my  deep  interest — more  than  deep  interest — in  the  per- 
son calling  himself  Capt.  Canolles  was  his  secret,  not 
mine,  since  he  wishes  it  to  be  preserved  intact.  I  now 
say  as  much  of  the  motives  actuating  him,  to  which  you 
have  referred." 

"Well,"  exclaimed  Ferrers,  "I,  too,  take  a  deep 
interest  in  Canolles.  And  one  reason  is  that  he  is 
like  a  son  of  mine  roving  about  somewhere,  if  he's  not 
dead." 

The  words  were  uttered  in  a  low,  deep  tone.  Car- 
taret looked  at  the  speaker  quickly,  but  made  no  reply. 

"I  think  sometimes,"  added  Ferrers,  in  the  same 
deep  tone,  "  that  Canolles  is  that  son." 


TO    WHOM    CANOLLES    HAD    WRITTEN.  113 

Cartaret  was  silent  in  the  same  strange  manner. 
Then  he  said  slowly,  and  with  the  air  of  one  who 
means  every  word  he  utters  to  make  its  impression  and 
engrave  itself  on  the  memory  : 

"  Col.  Ferrers,  you  have  lived  long  enough  to  know 
that  the  most  improbable  things  are  often  true,  have 
you  not?" 

"I  have." 

"  Do  you  think  it  impossible  that  Capt.  Canolles  is 
your  son  ? " 

The  young  man  could  feel  a  slight  tremor  run  through 
the  old  soldier's  arm.  For  some  moments  he  was 
silent.  Then  he  muttered  : 

"  No — nothing  is  impossible — but  this  is — " 

Suddenly  he  clutched  the  young  man's  arm  and 
dragged  him  in  a  direction  nearly  at  right  angles  to 
that  in  which  they  had  been  moving. 

"  Where  are  you  conducting  me,  Colonel  ? "  said 
Cartaret. 

"To  prison." 

"  Then  we  are  not  to  visit  Gen.  Phillips  ?  " 

"No." 

"Why  not?" 

"  For  the  simple  reason  that  I  don't  want  you  to  talk 
with  him." 

"  Not  talk  with  him  ?" 

"  Or  tell  him  what  brought  you  over  the  river  to- 
night." 

"  Your  reason  ?  " 

"  A  sound  one,"  grunted  the  old  soldier.  "  Phillips 
is  a  passionate  fellow  naturally,  and  is  burnt  up  with 
8 


114  CANOLLES. 

fever,  too.  If  you  tell  him  you  attacked  bis  troops  to 
rescue  Canolles,  he'll  fall  into  a  rage,  and  the  last 
chance  for  the  prisoner  will  be  lost." 

"  Are  there  any  chances  ?  "  * 

"I'm  afraid  not  one,  but  if  there  are,  I'll  not  preju- 
dice them.  Come  along !  I'll  take  you  to  the  house 
where  he  is  a  prisoner." 

"  And  I  shall  see  him!"  exclaimed  the  young  man 
in  an  ardent  tone. 

"  Why  not?"  growled  Ferrers.  "Yes,  you  shall  see 
him  !  And  I  mean  myself  to  see  him,  too.  I've  seen 
and  had  a  talk  with  him  already  to-night." 

"  Indeed !" 

"  A  long  talk ;  but  I  must  see  him  again — something 
takes  me  back." 
.     «  What  is  that?" 

"  To  find  out  who  and  what  he  is.  He  declined  tell- 
ing me  by  word  of  mouth,  but  had  explained  everything 
in  a  paper  that  he  had  written.  I  was  to  deliver  this 
paper  to  somebody — the  name  was  not  yet  written  upon 
it after  reading  it  myself;  and  Canolles  had  just  con- 
sented that  I  should  read  it  to-night  when  you  began 
your  small  display  of  fire-works  yonder  and  interrupted 
us.  But  come  in  !  In  fifteen  minutes  from  this  time 
there'll  be  no  longer  any  secret  in  this  affair." 

They  had  reached  the  house;  and  raising  his  head 
Lord  Ferrers  saw  that  the  light  was  still  burning  in  the 
chamber  of  Canolles. 

Passing  the  -sentinel,  who  saluted,  Ferrers  said  to 
Cartaret : 
"  Oblige  me  by  shutting  yourself  up  for  half  an  hour 


TO    WHOM    CANOLLES    HAD    WRITTEN.  115 

in  that  room  on  the  left,  where  you  will  find  a  camp 
couch  if  you  are  tired.  I  will  then  return,  and  you 
shall  have  the  interview  you  wish  with  your  friend." 

He  then  crossed  the  passage,  entered  the  room  occu- 
pied by  Canolles,  closed  the  door,  and  peered  through 
the  dim  light  of  the  tallow  candle,  which  was  sputter- 
ing and  nearly  out. 

Canolles  had  his  right  arm  on  the  table,  with  the 
hand  doubled  up,  and  his  forehead  rested  easily  on  the 
hand.  The  attitude  was  that  of  thought  or  of  sleep. 
As  Lord  Ferrers  drew  nearer  he  saw  that  the  hand 
rested  upon  the  paper  written  by  Canolles,  which  had 
been  folded  and  addressed  to  the  person  for  whom  it 
was  intended. 

"  Comrade  !"  said  Ferrers. 

Canolles  did  not  move,  and  the  old  soldier,  who  was 
now  at  his  side,  could  hear  his  long,  tranquil  breathing. 
The  man  who  was  to  be  shot  at  sunrise  was  sleeping  as 
sweetly  as  an  infant. 

An  expression  of  singular  softness  came  to  the  face 
of  Ferrers.  The  stern  brows  relaxed,  arid  something 
resembling  tears  shone  in  his  eye. 

"  Poor  fellow  !  brave  fellow !"  he  murmured.  "  I 
knew  he  would  be  cool  to  the  last.  But  the  paper ! 
the  paper !" 

He  bent  down  and  attempted  to  draw  it  from  beneath 
the  closed  hand  of  Canolles.  The  sleeper  stirred,  his 
regular  breathing  ceased,  and  the  hand  seemed  to  close 
down  more  heavily  on  the  paper. 

"  I'll  wake  him  if -I  try  to  get  it  away  from  him  !" 
muttered  Ferrers,  and  I  swear  I  would  not  wake  him 


116  CANOLLES. 

at  such  a  time  as  this  for  ten  thousand  pounds  sterling ! 
No,  no,  old  George  Ferrers  !  remember  this  is  a  soldier 
like  yourself — and  he'll  be  dead  at  sunrise!  Sleep  on, 
comrade — forget  your  troubles — take  your  rest — but 
there's  no  harm  in  my  looking  to  see  what  name  is  on 
that  letter,  as  I'm  to  convey  it  to  the  person  you  intend 
it  for." 

He  stooped  down,  slightly  moved  the  hand  which  the 
touch  told  him  was  quite  calm  and  composed,  like  face 
and  forehead,  and  looked  by  the  last  glimmer  of  the 
tallow  candle  at  the  address.  This  address  was  : 

"  Lieutenant  Henry  Cartaret, 

Army  of  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette." 


AT    "  BOLLINGBROOK."  117 


CHAPTER  XX. 

AT    "  BOLLINGBROOK." 

It  was  nearly  sunrise.  The  fresh  and  balmy  air  of 
the  May  morning  sweeping  across  the  Blandford  hills 
entered  the  open  windows  of  an  apartment  in  the 
"  Bollingbrook  House/'  and  gently  fanned  the  feverish 
forehead  of  a  man  leaning  languidly  back  in  an  easy 
chair  and  looking  out  upon  the  beautiful  landscape. 

Gen.  Phillips  had  risen  half  an  hour  before,  slowly 
made  his  toilet  without  assistance — donning  an  undress 
uniform — and  while  all  in  the  house  were  still  asleep 
had  repaired  to  the  drawing-room — the  apartment 
which  we  have  entered  once  before — and  here,  lying 
rather  than  sitting  in  his  easy  chair  by  the  open  win- 
dow, he  seemed  to  indulge  in  a  mood  of  sorrowful 
musing. 

The  landscape  upon  which  his  eyes  were  fixed  was 
singularly  lovely.  Immediately  in  front  was  Blandford 
Church,  even  then  nearly  half  a  century  old,  with  its 
ivy-covered  walls  and  grassy  knoll  glimmering  with 
white  tombstones.  To  the  right  and  left  were  the  tents 
of  the  army.  Beyond  a  belt  of  forest  formed  a  fore- 
ground to  ranges  of  hills  whose  outlines  fell  gradually 
away  toward  the  south ;  and  the  scattered  houses  of  the 
triple  villages,  Blandford,  Petersburg  and  Pocahontas, 
the  quiet,  lazy-looking  river,  the  budding  leaves,  the 
early  flowers  and  bird  songs,  and  the  perfume  of  dawn 


118  CANOLLES. 

— these  made  up  an  exquisite  picture,  and  exerted  an 
influence  evidently  sweet  and  soothing  to  the  sick  sol- 
dier, who,  free  for  the  moment  from  the  cares  of  com- 
mand, seemed  to  be  carried  back  to  other  scenes,  perhaps 
to  earlier  and  happier  years. 

It  was  a  proud  and  martial  face — the  face  of  General 
William  Phillips — but  it  had  now  grown  soft;  and  a 
certain  wistful,  longing  expression  had  come  to  the 
eyes  ordinarily  stern  and  rather  cold.  In  his  face  there 
was  none  of  the  ill-humor  which  had  characterized  it 
during  his  interview  with  Col.  Ferrers.  A  sad  smile, 
even,  came  at  certain  moments  to  his  lips,  and  looking 
toward  the  old  Blandford  church,  he  murmured : 

"  Life  is,  after  all,  a  strange  affair  at  best — what  the 
next  hour  will  bring  forth  remains  still  a  mystery." 

He  stopped,  mused,  then  added  : 

"  I  have  a  presentiment  that  I  shall  die  here,  and  if  I 
should  I  shall  doubtless  be  buried  yonder  near  that  old 
church.  Am  I  looking  now  at  my  own  grave?'7 

He  mused  again  for  some  moments  in  silence;  then 
he  murmured : 

"  Well,  well — what  matters  it  ?  I  should  have  chosen 
to  die,  if  I  had  had  the  power  to  choose,  on  the  field, 
in  harness — the  death  of  a  soldier.  Instead,  I  die  from 
a  fever  in  my  bed — for  I  feel  that  I  shall  die ;  still,  all 
is  the  same.'7 

The  songs  of  the  birds  flitting  from  tree  to  tree  filled 
up  the  pause  which  followed,  and  seemed  to  soothe  the 
weary -looking  man.  There  was  something  inexpres- 
sibly sweet  in  the  gay  warbling,  and  the  red  birds 
passed  from  tree  to  tree  like  balls  of  animated  fire. 


AT    "  BOLLINGBROOK."  119 

The  orioles  seemed  wild  with  joy  at  the  coming  of 
spring ;  the  blue  birds  poured  forth  an  incessant  flood 
of  rejoiceful  notes;  and,  sweeter  than  all,  from  the  top- 
most spray  of  an  elm  in  the  Bollingbrook  grounds,  an 
"English  mocking-bird"*  filled  the  air  with  what 
seemed  a  concert  from  every  feathered  songster  of  the 
fields  and  forests. 

The  feverish  forehead  of  the  soldier  drooped;  his  eyes 
assumed  a  dreamy  and  almost  tender  expression ;  he 
seemed  to  have  gone  back  to  his  youth — perhaps  to 
some  early  love — and  was  a  boy  again,  when  suddenly 
a  drum  rolled,  jarring  harsh  and  ominous  on  the  morn- 
ing air. 

At  the  sound  Gen.  Phillips  rose  suddenly  in  his 
chair,  and  turned  his  head  with  the  air  of  a  man  who 
is  listening.  Again  the  drum  rolled  and  he  uttered  a 
sigh. 

"I  had  quite  forgotten,"  he  murmured,  "that  poor 
fellow  is  to  be  shot  at  sunrise,  and  yonder  is  the  red 
flush  that  precedes  his  death." 

Again  his  head  drooped. 

"  Strange  ! "  he  muttered,  "  strange  human  life  !  To- 
day, a  living,  breathing  man;  to-morrow — nothing. 
Yesterday,  this  partisan  —  Canolles — was  free,  strong, 
full  of  hope  and  the  sense  of  enjoyment,  and  in  ten 
minutes  from  this  time,  by  order  of  a  worm  like  my- 
self— the  worm  calling  himself  William  Phillips — he 
will  pass  from  earth  riddled  by  musket  balls.  And 
then,  in  turn,  comes  the  fate  of  the  person  who  sends 

*  Why  called  the  "English"  mocking-bird  I  do  not  know,  as  the  bird  is 
found  nowhere  except  in  America.  The  prefix  "English"  is,  however,  com- 
mon in  Virginia,  and  seems  meant  to  indicate  the  best  species  of  singers. 


120  CANOLLES. 

him  to  his  death !  He  dies  the  death  of  a  soldier,  and 
is  more  fortunate  than  I  am  :  for  I  shall  die  burned  up 
by  this  fever — this  terrible  fever !  " 

Again  the  roll  of  the  drum  was  heard,  and  on  the 
slope  of  the  hill  in  front  might  be  seen  the  detail  of 
men  drawn  up  and  ready  to  perform  their  melancholy 
duty.  The  red  flush  in  the  east  gradually  deepened, 
and  the  sun  was  near  his  rising. 

"Poor  fellow!"  murmured  Phillips,  "after  all,  he  is 
to  be  pitied  rather  than  blamed.  Who  knows  ?  It 
was  doubtless  the  result  of  bad  training.  He  was  not 
surrounded  by  the  sweet  amenities,  perhaps,  of  home, 
but  thrown  with  rough,  coarse  characters,  who  warped 
his  life  and  brought  him  to  these  evil  courses.  And 
yet  this  man  seemed  no  common  plunderer.  He  even 
had  about  him  the  indefinable  something  indicating 
the  gentleman.  Well,  well,  I  cannot  take  account  of 
that.  My  duty  must  be  performed.  A  court-martial 
tries  and  finds  him  guilty — he  is  condemned  to  death — 
I  am  forced  to  approve  the  sentence  of  the  court.  There 
is,  there  can  be,  no  hope  whatever  for  him." 

The  door  behind  the  speaker  opened,  and  an  orderly 
put  his  head  in. 

"The  guard  with  two  prisoners,  sir,"  he  said.  "I 
told  them  you  could  not  see  them,  but  one  is  a  young 
lady,  who  is  crying  and  says  she  must  see  you." 

"Crying?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  face  of  Gren.  Phillips  darkened. 

"  No  outrage,  I  trust.     By  Heaven !  if  there  is,  the 


AT  "BOLLINGBROOK."  121 

perpetrator  shall  swing  by  the  neck,  be  he  man  or 
officer." 

"I  don't  think  it's  that,  sir,"  was  the  orderly's  reply. 
"  The  young  lady  says  she  has  important  information 
to  give  you." 

"Important  information  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Who  is  the  other  prisoner?" 

"A  young  man,  sir — rather  a  boy." 

"  Place  a  chair  for  the  young  lady — that  arm  chair — 
and  admit  both  the  prisoners." 

A  few  moments  afterwards  Fanny  Talbot  and  Walter 
Hayfield  were  introduced  into  the  apartment. 


122  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE      INTERVIEW. 

As  Fanny  entered,  Gen.  Phillips  rose  and  made  a 
courtly  inclination.  A  single  glance  had  told  him  that 
the  young  girl  was  a  lady  entitled  to  all  the  respect  he 
could  pay  her. 

"  Be  good  enough  to  take  a  seat,  madam,"  he  said, 
pointing  to  the  arm  chair,  which  the  orderly  had  drawn 
forward  in  obedience  to  his  directions. 

"  Oh  !  no,  sir !  no,  no  !  I  cannot  sit  down,"  exclaimed 
Fanny,  whose  eyes  streamed  with  tears.  "  There  is 
not  a  moment  to  lose !  I  must  speak,  and  speak 
quickly !  " 

Gen.  Phillips  fixed  a  penetrating  look  upon  the 
young  lady  and  said  : 

"  I  will  hear  with  pleasure  what  you  desire  to  say, 
madam.  May  I  ask  with  whom  I  have  the  honor  of 
conversing  ?-" 

"  My  name  is  Fanny  Talbot,  sir,  and  I  have  come  to 
beseech  you  to  spare  the  life  of  Capt.  Canolles  ?  " 

At  these  words  the  face  of  Gen.  Phillips  lost  its  mild 
expression  and  grew  cold.  It  was  plain  that  he  had 
misapprehended  the  object  of  the  young  lady's  visit. 
The  orderly  informed  him  that  she  was  crying,  and  had 
come  to  communicate  important  information,  from 
which  he  had  concluded  that  she  had  either  some  com- 
plaint to  make  or  some  intelligence  to  give  him.  It 


THE    INTERVIEW. 

now  became  obvious  that  her  aim  was  to  plead  with 
him  in  behalf  of  Canolles — to  work,  if  possible,  upon 
his  feelings  by  entreaties  and  tears — and  knowing  that 
there  was  no  possible  ground  for  pardoning  the  pris- 
oner, he  shrunk  from  being  subjected,  in  his  weak  and 
feverish  condition,  to  an  interview  as  trying  as  it  would 
be  fruitless. 

"  I  pray  you  will  be  seated,  Miss  Talbot,"  he  said,, 
coldly ;  "  or  that  you  will  permit  me  to  resume  my  own 
seat.  I  am  ill  and  must  sit  down." 

He  sank  back  in  his  chair  and  added : 

"  You  subject  me  to  unnecessary  pain  by  this  inter- 
view, Miss  Talbot.  I  am  not  aware  of  the  relations 
you  sustain  toward  the  prisoner  Canolles ;  but,  even  if 
he  were  your  brother — the  nearest  and  dearest  person 
to  you  in  the  world — I  regret  to  be  obliged  to  inform 
you  that  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  interpose  in  his 
case." 

Fanny  sank  down  in  her  chair  and  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands,  sobbing  bitterly  and  apparently  unable 
to  command  her  voice  sufficiently  to  speak. 

Gen.  Phillips  looked  at  her  with  an  expression  of 
sincere  pity. 

"  If  I  could  spare  the  life  of  this  person,  Miss  Tal- 
bot," he  said,  "  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor  I  would 
do  so — I  would  have  done  so  without  your  interposi- 
tion. But  this  is  impossible.  I  am  not  only  a  man — 
I  am  an  official.  The  prisoner  has  forfeited  his  life  by 
his  own  act.  He  has  had  a  fair  trial.  He  has  ac~ 
knowledged  the  truth  of  the  charges  against  him.  A 
court  strongly  desirous  of  sparing  him,  if  possible — 


124  CANOLLES. 

for  there  never  was  apparently  a  braver  man — has  been 
compelled  to  condemn  him,  in  accordance  with  the 
laws  of  war.  I  have  been  compelled  to  approve  the 
sentence  of  the  court  or  fail  in  my  duty.  I  am  there- 
fore powerless,  whatever  distress  you  may  feel  at  the 
prisoner's  fate." 

Fanny  rose,  removing  her  hands  from  her  wet  face, 
and  exclaimed : 

"  But  if  there  is  something  that  you  do  not  know  ! 
— if  the  prisoner  is  not  the  common  plunderer  you 
think  him  ! — if  he  is  a  gentleman  ! — as  true  and  noble 
as  any  human  being  that  ever  lived ! — if  his  object  in 
attacking  the  convoy  was  to  accomplish  an  end  which 
all  persons  must  respect  him  for  wishing  to  accom- 
plish—" 

The  poor  girl  stopped,  choked  by  tears,  and  Gen. 
Phillips  pushed  back  his  chair,  gazing  at  her  with  the 
utmost  astonishment. 

"  Miss  Talbot !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  you  must  have  lost 
your  reason  under  the  pressure  of  distress.  The  pris- 
oner a  gentleman  ! — true  and  noble  ! — his  object  one 
that  ought  to  be  respected !  Surely  you  are  unaware 
of  what  you  are  saying." 

"  Oh  !  no  !  no  ! — every  word  I  say  is  true." 

"  Impossible ! " 

Her  face  suddenly  flushed  with  joy. 

u  But  if  I  prove  what  I  say  ! — if  I  show  you  that  the 
prisoner's  motives  were  not  only  unselfish,  but  noble, 
then  you  will  pardon  him,  will  you  not?  Oh!  Gen. 
Phillips,  people  say  that  you  are  a  man  of  the  highest 
honor — that  this  principle  guides  you  in  all  things; 


THE    INTERVIEW.  125 

and  I  appeal  to  it  now — your  authority  here  is  above 
all—" 

"  But  the  meaning  of  all  this,  Miss  Talbot,"  inter- 
posed Gen.  Phillips,  with  feverish  emotion,  "the 
meaning  !  Speak  quickly ;  the  hour  is  at  hand  for  the 
prisoner's  execution  !  If  you  have  proof  of  what  you 
allege  in  his  favor,  it  behooves  you  to  produce  it 
promptly.  You  say  justly  that  my  authority  is  con- 
trolling, as  the  head  of  the  army.  Yes ;  but  I,  in  turn, 
am  controlled  by  the  laws  of  war.  I  can  stay  the  exe- 
cution of  the  prisoner  if  it  seems  proper  for  me  to  do 
so ;  but  I  must  have  some  valid  reason ;  and,  you  will 
pardon  me,  Miss  Talbot,  for  adding  that  I  do  not  feel 
at  liberty  to  base  such  official  interposition  upon  the 
mere  oral  statement  of  any  person." 

"  I  have  better  proof  than  my  own  words !  "  ex- 
claimed Fanny ;  "  written  proof!  " 

The  trembling  fingers  of  the  young  lady  were  in- 
serted in  the  opening  of  her  dress  in  front,  laced  after 
the  fashion  of  the  times,  with  cord  over  a  chemisette. 

"  Written  proof,  Miss  Talbot!"  said  Gen.  Phillips. 
"  Ah!  that  is  what  I  ask !  I  ask  nothing  better  than 
to  be  able,  consistently  with  my  duty,  to  save  the  life 
you  plead  for !  Marauder  or  not,  Can  oil  es  is  a  brave 
soldier  !  The  proof — the  proof,  Miss  Talbot !  " 

Fanny  made  no  reply.  She  stood  as  motionless  as  if 
she  had  suddenly  been  turned  to  stone.  The  hand 
she  had  placed  in  her  bosom  remained  there.  Her 
eyes  were  fixed.  Her  face  was  as  white  as  snow. 

"  The  proof,  the  proof,  madam !  "  repeated  Gen. 
Phillips  ;  "  and  I  must  again  call  your  attention,  Miss 


126  CANOLLES. 

Talbot,  to  the  fact  that  time  is  passing — the  prisoner's 
fate  hangs  in  the  balance !  In  ten  minutes  it  will  be 
too  late." 

Fanny  did  not  reply.  She  was  fumbling  in  the 
bosom  of  her  dress,  and  trembling. 

"  I — I — it  was  here,"  she  murmured  in  a  low  voice, 
"-in  my  bosom.  I  thought  it  was  safe — but — but — in 
the  darkness,  while  riding  fast — I  have  lost  it !  " 

'As  she  uttered  these  words  her  eyes  closed,  her 
slender  figure  wavered  as  a  flower  wavers  when  the 
wind  strikes  it,  and  but  for  Gen.  Phillips,  who  started 
up  and  supported  her,  she  would  have  fallen  fainting 
to  the  floor. 


THE    INTERVIEW.  127 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

AT    SUNRISE. 

A  military  execution  is  one  of  the  saddest  incidents 
attending  war.  It  depresses'  the  most  careless,  and 
appals  the  bravest,  for  there  is  something  brutal  and 
repulsive  in  the  whole  proceeding  calculated  to  revolt 
the  most  hardened  spectator.  Death  in  action  is  one 
thing — to  be  shot  to  death  by  a  file  of  soldiers  is  an- 
other. In  combat  the  pulse  is  hot;  the  smoke,  the 
uproar,  the  smell  of  gunpowder  fires  the  blood — a  man 
falls  then  as  a  soldier,  and  dies  the  death  of  a  soldier. 
Shot  to  death  by  sentence  of  court-martial,  he  dies  like 
a  hunted  animal  run  down  and  knocked  on  the  head. 
His  life  is  coldly  extinguished  by  human  beings  who 
have  no  ill-feeling  toward  him,  who  perhaps  pity  him. 
He  is  the  victim  of  an  army  regulation.  He  is  not 
killed  in  open  fight,  man  against  man ;.  he  is  quietly 
put  to  death  by  a  detail  of  infantry  who  fire  on  him  at 
the  word,  see  him  fall,  and  then  march  back  to  their 
quarters  to  breakfast,  while  others  dig  a  grave  and 
place  the  corpse  in  it,  and  the  whole  affair  is  forgotten. 
Of  the  brutal  thing  called  war,  the  most  brutal  feature 
is  the  military  execution. 

Canolles  faced  his  fate,  repulsive  as  it  was,  with  un- 
shrinking nerves.  It  is  not  without  reason  that  the 
world  respects  courage  in  a  man,  since  the  trait  is  one 
which  gives  human  nature  a  certain  superiority  and 


128  CANOLLES. 

mastership  over  fate  itself.  The  man  who  can  look 
death  in  the  face  without  the  tremor  of  a  nerve  is 
greater  than  what  is  opposed  to  him — and  Canolles  had 
this  courage  to  meet  his  fate  with  a  steady  eye. 

"We  left  him  asleep  in  his  prison  with  Col.  Ferrers 
looking  at  him ;  and  this  tranquil  slumber  continued 
unbroken  throughout  the  rest  of  the  night.  Ferrers 
would  neither  wake  him  himself  nor  allow  any  other 
person  to  do  so.  Giving  express  orders  to  this  effect 
to  the  guard,  and  informing  Cartaret  that  his  interview 
with  the  prisoner  should  take  place  toward  dawn,  he 
returned  to  his  quarters,  directed  his  orderly  to  wake 
him  in  two  hours,  and  stretching  himself  on  a  camp 
couch  fell  asleep. 

Ferrers  had  resolved  to  ascertain  the  contents  of  the 
paper  written  by  Canolles  as  soon  as  he  woke,  for  which 
there  would  be  ample  time  ^  and  then,  if  there  were 
any  circumstances  connected  with  the  attack  on  the 
convoy  calculated  to  change  the  light  in  which  the 
court  had  viewed  it,  he  meant  to  repair  immediately  to 
the  quarters  of  Gen.  Phillips,  apply  for  a  reprieve,  and 
thus  afford  Canolles  another  chance  for  his  life. 

Such  was  the  plan  formed  by  Col.  Ferrers.  Unfor- 
tunately he  lost  sight  of  the  fact  that  his  orderly  might 
be  as  drowsy  as  himself.  This  proved  to  be  the  fact. 
The  man  nodded  on  his  post,  gradually  his  head  sank, 
and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he  was  asleep. 

Two,  three,  four  hours  passed — day  came — the  east 
began  to  redden — and  Col.  Ferrers  still  slept  on.  The 
camp  stirred — officers  moved  to  and  fro — the  stifled 
hum  of  the  forces  came  on  the  morning  air,  and  still 


AT    SUNRISE.  129 

the  old  militaire,  overcome  by  loss  of  rest  in  the  earlier 
hours  of  the  night,  continued  to  sleep  as  tranquilly  as 
the  man  whom  he  had  ordered  to  wake  him. 

Suddenly  the  roll  of  a  drum  was  heard,  and  Col. 
Ferrers  rose  hastily  to  his  feet,  rubbing  his  eyes,  and 
looking  around  him. 

All  at  once  the  truth  flashed  upon  him.  He  had 
overslept  himself,  and  the  orderly  had  failed  in  his 
duty! 

The  face  of  the  old  soldier  flushed  with  passion,  and 
rushing  upon  the  man,  who  was  just  awake,  he  be- 
stowed upon  him  a  kick  so  violent  that  it  literally 
hurled  him  out  of  the  tent.  This  was  succeeded  by  a 
volley  of  oaths  and  curses,  which  seemed  to  relieve  in 
some  measure  the  soldier's  indignation,  and  then 
hastening  from  the  tent  he  went  rapidly  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  house  where  Canolles  had  been  confined. 

Passing  the  sentinel  quickly  he  hastened  into  the 
apartment  where  he  had  left  the  prisoner.  It  was 
vacant.  Canolles  was  nowhere  to  be  seen ;  but  on  the 
table  lay  the  packet  addressed  to  "Lieut.  Henry  Car- 
taret,"  Canolles  having  added  the  words,  "Deliver  this 
to  Col.  Lord  Ferrers  when  I  am  dead." 

The  heart  of  the  old  militaire  died  within  him.  While 
he  was  sleeping  day  had  come  ;  Canolles  was  to  be  shot 
at  sunrise ;  he  had  already  been  conducted  to  the  place 
of  execution,  and  a  single  glance  through  the  window 
showed  him  the  disk  of  the  sun  slowly  rising  above  the 
summit  of  the  forest  trees  toward  the  east. 

Seizing  the  packet  and  thrusting  it  into  his  breast, 
he  rushed  from  the  room  and  on  past  the  sentinel. 
9 


130  CANOLLES. 

"  They  have  gone  with  the  prisoner  Canolles  ?  "  he 
cried  to  the  soldier. 

"Yes,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 

"How  long?" 

"About  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  sir." 

"And — the  other  officer  captured  last  night — did 
he  and  Canolles  meet?" 

"No,  sir;  had  your  orders  not  to  disturb  the  prisoner, 
sir." 

Col.  Ferrers  hastened,  almost  running  toward  the 
spot,  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  where  a  group 
and  the  gleam  of  gun  barrels  indicated  the  locality  of 
the  approaching  tragedy.  His  face  burned  like  fire 
behind  the  snow-white  mustache;  his  breast  heaved 
with  emotion  and  the  unwonted  exertion.  Grasping 
tightly  the  paper  left  by  Canolles  he  hurried  on,  vainly 
endeavoring  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  men  com- 
prising the  fatal  group. 

Habituated  to  such  spectacles,  and  familiar  with  the 
details  of  military  executions,  Lord  Ferrers  could  follow 
every  manoeuvre  and  calculate  the  possibility  of  his 
reaching  the  spot  before  the  order  to  fire  was  given  by 
the  officer  commanding  the  detachment.  This  seemed 
now  utterly  impossible.  The  sun  had  risen  above  the 
forest  in  full  majesty,  and  the  detachment  which  had 
been  detailed  for  the  execution  of  the  prisoner  were 
evidently  awaiting  the  order  of  the  officer  in  command 
to  perform  their  melancholy  duty. 

Canolles  stood  facing  them,  with  his  hands  unbound 
and  his  head  bare.  The  former  favor  he  owed  to  the 
soldierly  sympathy  of  the  young  officer  who  had  been 


AT   SUNRISE.  131 

detailed  to  superintend  the  execution. ,  The  officer  had 
made  his  appearance  at  the  quarters  occupied  by  the 
prisoner  a  little  after  dawn,  and  had  found  him  awake, 
and  folding  the  sheets  of  the  paper  which  he  had 
written. 

"  Good  morning,  Lieutenant,"  said  Canolles,  court- 
eously addressing  the  young  Englishman  hy  the  title 
which  his  uniform  indicated.  "  I  see  you  have  come 
for  me." 

"  Yes,  Captain — I  am  sorry  to  say  it." 

"  The  duty  is  not  agreeable  to  you  I  see  very  well, 
Lieutenant;  but  we  cannot  pass  through  this  world 
without  being  called  upon  to  perform  at  times  what  is 
repulsive.  You  are  a  soldier,  sir,  hence  you  lament 
the  necessity  of  giving  the  order  to  your  men  to  tire  on 
a  brother  soldier,  marauder  though  he  be." 

"  I  do  not  believe  you  are  a  marauder,  sir,"  said  the 
young  officer  with  some  emotion  ;  "  I  was  within  earshot 
during  your  trial,  and  am  willing  to  pledge  my  honor 
that  you  are  a  gentleman." 

"  Thanks,"  was  the  reply  of  Canolles.  "  Sympathy 
is  grateful  to  a  man  when  he  is  surrounded  by  enemies 
and  about  to  die." 

"  You  have  as  many  friends  as  enemies  in  the 
British  army." 

"But  I  die  all  the  same,"  said  Canolles  in  the  same 
calm  voice.  "  Well,  it  is  the  fortune  of  war.  I  have 
played  and  lost,  and  will  stand  the  forfeit.  A  last 
favor  now — it  is  slight." 

"  I  will  grant  it  if  I  can,  with  all  my  heart." 

"  I  hoped  to  see  a  friend  this  morning  before  sun- 


132  CANOLLES. 

rise — Lord  Ferrers.  "We  were  conversing  last  night 
when  the  American  attack  took  place — a  mere  skirmish, 
no  doubt — and  he  was  forced  to  leave  me.  I  expected 
him  to  return — he  was  doubtless  unable  to  do  so.  I 
was  sure,  however,  that  I  would  see  him  this  morning, 
as  I  think  I  have  his  friendly  sympathy,  and  he  is 
anxious  to  ascertain  the  contents  of  this  paper." 

"  Of  that  paper?" 

"  Yes,  what  is  written  here  interests  him,  or  will. 
There  is  now  no  time.  Oblige  me  by  seeing  that  the 
paper  is  delivered  to  him  after  my  death.  I  have  made, 
as  you  will  see,  an  endorsement  upon  it  requesting  as 
much." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  will  deliver  it!  Do  riot  fear,  Captain  !  " 
exclaimed  the  young  officer,  nearly  giving  way  to 
sympathetic  emotion. 

"Thanks  once  more,  Lieutenant;  and  now  I  am 
ready.  A  last  favor — I  shall  make  no  attempt  to 
escape  on  the  way  to  the  ground — leave  my  hands  free. 
I  am  a  soldier,  not  a  malefactor." 

"  Your  wish  is  granted,  Captain." 

"  And  now  I  am  at  your  orders,  sir." 

The  young  Englishman  turned  toward  the  door,  so 
much  moved  that  he  lost  sight  of  the  paper,  which  re- 
mained lying  upon  the  table.  Canolles  followed  him, 
the  guard  was  put  in  motion,  and  the  melancholy  party 
proceeded  to  the  place  of  execution. 

They  soon  reached  it,  and  the  men  were  drawn  up  in 
line.  Canolles  turned  and  looked  toward  the  east.  The 
red  flush  indicated  that  the  sun  was  about  to  rise. 


AT   SUNRISE.  133 

"  My  time  is  short,"  said  the  partisan.  "  Give  me  a 
moment,  Lieutenant,  to  say  my  last  prayer.  I  die  a 
Christian  as  well  as  a  soldier.  I  believe  with  all  my 
heart  and  soul  in  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ." 

He  clasped  his  hands,  closed  his  eyes,  and  his  head 
drooped ;  for  a  few  moments  his  lips  were  seen  moving. 
He  then  raised  his  head,  and  standing  straight  as  an 
arrow,  fixed  his  eyes  immovably  on  the  detachment. 

"  Oblige  me  by  inspecting  the  arms,  Lieutenant,"  he 
said,  "I  wish  to  die  at  the  first  discharge." 

Nearly  blinded  by  tears  the  young  officer  obeyed, 
inspecting  and  returning  the  muskets,  one  by  one.  He 
then  took  his  post  on  the  right  of  the  detachment. 
Canolles  was  standing  ten  or  fifteen  paces  in  front. 

"  Are  you  ready,  Captain?"  faltered  the  young 
Englishman. 

"  Ready  ! "  was  the  reply  in  the  resolute  tone  of  the 
soldier. 

The  English  officer  turned  away  his  head  as  though 
to  hide  from  his  eyes  the  terrible  spectacle  of  a  human 
being  torn  to  pieces  by  bullets,  and  hurled  back, 
drenched  with  blood. 

"Present !"  he  muttered. 

The  soldiers  presented. 

"Take  aim!" 

The  gleaming  barrels  fell  like  a  single  weapon,  and 
were  directed  at  the  prisoner's  heart. 

"  Fire !  "  trembled  on  the  officer's  lips,  when  a  shout 
was  heard  behind  him,  and  turning  his  head  he  saw 
Lord  Ferrers  hastening  toward  him  with  violent  gesti- 
culation. 


134  CANOLLES. 

"  Hold !  "  shouted  Lord  Ferrers,  and  he  was  seen 
pointing  in  the  direction  of  the  quarters  of  Gen. 
Phillips,  about  four  hundred  yards  distant. 

In  front  of  Bollinghrook  House  was  seen  a  confused 
group  of  men  and  horses,  and  in  the  midst  of  them  a 
young  girl  waving  a  paper.  She  seemed  about  to  rush 
with  it  toward  the  place  of  execution,  but  it  was 
snatched  from  her  hand,  one  of  the  men  leaped  on 
horseback,  and  a  moment  afterward  was  seen  approach- 
ing at  headlong  speed,  digging  the  spurs  into  his  horse 
at  every  bound,  and  waving  the  paper  above  his  head. 

"Ground  arms!"  cried  the  young  officer  to  the  file 
of  men,  and  hastening  toward  the  horseman  he  seized 
the  paper  and  tore  it  open. 

It  contained  these  words,  in  the  handwriting  of  Gen. 
Phillips : 

"Arrest  the  execution  of  the  prisoner  Canolles,  who  is  reprieved 
until  further  orders.  PHILLIPS." 

"  Thank  God ! "  cried  the  young  man,  and  he  hurried 
to  Canolles  and  grasped  his  hand. 

"  You  are  reprieved,  Captain !  "  he  said. 

"And  a  devilish  close  graze  it  was  .'""exclaimed  a 
panting  voice  behind  the  officer.  "  Well,  Lieutenant, 
there  is  no  further  use  for  this  file  of  men,  I  suppose?" 

"None  whatever,  Colonel." 

And  ordering  a  corporal  to  march  the  detachment 
back  to  their  quarters,  the  officer  said  to  Canolles  : 

"  Take  my  arm,  Captain.  I  am  afraid  you  will  have 
to  go  back  to  prison ;  but  you  are  safe.  I  never  knew 
a  reprieved  man  to  suffer!  " 

"  Faith !  here's  another  arm  at  your  service,  Canolles," 


AT    SUNRISE.  135 

said  Lord  Ferrers.  "  I  meant  to  offer  it  to  you  on 
your  way  to  this  spot,  only  I  reached  the  prison  too 
late." 

Canolles  seemed  to  sustain  his  sudden  good  fortune 
as  coolly  as  he  had  faced  approaching  death. 

"  Ah  !  "  he  said.  "  So  you  were  at  the  prison,  Colo- 
nel, after  I  left  it?" 

"  Yes." 

"You  saw  the  paper  addressed  to  you?" 

"Yes,  here  it  is." 

Canolles  extended  his  hand  and  took  it. 

"  Since  I  am  not  dead,  Colonel,"  he  said,  "  I  must 
resume  possession,  for  the  present,  of  this  paper." 

"Humph!" 

"  The  reprieve,  short  as  it  may  be,  materially  alters 
things.  But  be  content — I  shall  probably  be  shot  soon, 
and  then  the  paper  will  reach  you." 

The  Colonel  muttered  some  ill-humored  words,  add- 
ing : 

"  I  wonder  what  induced  Phillips  to  grant  the  re- 
prieve ?  I  think  I  saw  a  woman  yonder,  but  may  I  be 
shot  if  I  know  who  she  can  be  !" 

It  was  indeed  Fanny,  who  had  succeeded  in  moving 
Gen.  Phillips.  Reviving  from  her  fainting  fit,  she  had 
poured  forth,  with  passionate  sobs  and  tears  what  the 
lost  paper  had  contained,  and  doubtless  the  agony  of 
her  tones  and  the  spectacle  of  the  beautiful  face  con- 
tracted with  anguish  had  a  fuller  effect  than  the  perusal 
of  the  paper  could  possibly  have  had. 

She  was  still  speaking  when  Gen.  Phillips  went  to 
the  table,  fortunately  containing  pen,  ink  and  paper, 


136  CANOLLES. 

and  hastily  wrote  the  reprieve,  after  which  he  called  an 
orderly. 

"  Your  friend  is  reprieved  until  further  orders,  Miss 
Talbot.  I  can  grant  you  so  much,  consistently  with 
my  duty,  after  listening  to  your  very  singular  state- 
ment." 

Fanny  seized  the  paper,  exclaiming  :  "  Oh  !  thank 
you  !  bless  you,  Gen.  Phillips  ! "  and  rushed  out  of  the 
room. 

"  Follow  this  young  lady,"  said  Phillips  to  the  or- 
derly. "  Take  that  paper,  and  ride  at  full  speed  to  the 
place  where  Canolles  is  about  to  be  shot.  Lose  no  time ; 
make  signals  as  you  ride ;  deliver  it  to  the  officer ;  it 
is  a  reprieve !" 

What  followed  we  have  seen.  As  the  door  closed 
on  the  orderly,  Gen.  Phillips  sank  back  faintly  in  his 
chair. 

"  Well,"  he  murmured,  "  if  I  die,  as  I  think  I  shall 
very  soon,  one  of  my  last  official  acts  has  been  to  grant 
mercy  to  a  poor  fellow-creature — and  I  in  turn  may 
have  mercy  perhaps  granted  to  me !  What  a  strange 
and  moving  story !  Well,  something  told  me  from  the 
first  that  this  man  Canolles  was  no  common  plunderer 
— and  I  feel  that  what  that  poor  girl  stated  is  true. 
Poor  girl !  How  devoted  in  her!  how  superior  women 
are  to  men  in  this  noble  trait  of  unswerving  devotion  ! " 

He  rose  and  went  to  the  window,  through  which  he 
saw  the  arrival  of  the  orderly  and  the  delivery  of  the 
paper. 

"  He  is  saved!"  he  said.  "When  I  am  gone  his  fate 
will  be  decided  by  others." 


THE    DEATH    OF    PHILLIPS.  137 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE    DEATH    OF    PHILLIPS. 

Gen.  Phillips  had  been  only  too  accurate  in  fore- 
casting his  fate.  The  scenes  which  have  been  described 
took  place  daring  the  day  and  night  of  the  tenth  and 
on  the  morning  of  the  eleventh  of  May. 

On  the  thirteenth  of  May,  while  the  American  forces, 
under  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette  still  confronted  the 
British  army  in  Petersburg,  Gen.  William  Phillips, 
"  the  proudest  man  in  the  proudest  nation  upon  earth," 
breathed  his  last  in  the  Bollingbrook  House  from  the 
effects  of  bilious,  fever. 

He  was  buried,  as  he  anticipated  and  probably  de- 
sired, in  the  graveyard  attached  to  the  ivy-clad  old 
Blandford  church.  The  ceremonies  were  imposing. 
Mourning  insignia  were  seen  everywhere,  the  bands 
played  the  Dead  March,  and  the  army,  with  reversed 
arms,  followed  the  hearse,  containing  the  remains  of 
their  commander,  warmly  beloved,  in  spite  of  his  hot 
temper  and  pride,  for  his  many  excellent  qualities  of 
heart. 

The  long  cortege  wound  up  the  Blandford  hill,  the 
coffin  was  removed  from  the  hearse  by  Lord  Ferrers 
and  the  other  pall-bearers,  and  lowered  slowly  to  its 
last  resting  place.  The  sublime  burial  service  of  the 
Episcopal  Church  was  then  read  by  an  army  chaplain — 
a  sudden  volley  of  fire-arms  rolled  above  the  grave  in 


138  CANOLLES. 

honor  of  the  dead  soldier — and  an  hour  afterward  a 
mound  of  green  turf,  under  the  shadow  of  the  Bland- 
ford  walls,  alone  indicated  the  spot  where  Gen.  William 
Phillips  was  sleeping  his  last  sleep. 

The  command  of  the  army  devolved  upon  Gen. 
Arnold,  as  next  in  rank,  until  the  arrival  of  Lord  Corn- 
wallis,  who  was  on  his  march  from  the  South  in  the 
direction  of  Petersburg. 


THE    SEQUEL.  139 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE    SEQUEL. 

We  shall  now,  before  passing  to  other  scenes  of  the 
narrative,  relate  the  sequel  of  events  occurring  at 
Petersburg  in  this  month  of  May,  1781. 

The  elevation,  by  the  death  of  Gen.  Phillips,  of  Gen. 
Arnold  to  the  supreme  command  of  the  British  forces 
at  Petersburg,  aroused  in  Lord  Ferrers,  and  the  officers 
almost  without  exception,  a  sentiment  of  the  deepest 
indignation  and  even  disgust.  The  feeling  in  the  army, 
as  afterwards  in  London,  in  reference  to  Arnold,  was 
general  and  unmistakable.  Compelled  to  carry  out 
the  stipulations  made  between  him  and  Sir  Henry 
Clinton — a  certain  grade  of  rank  and  a  certain  amount 
of  money  for  the  surrender  of  West  Point— the  Eng- 
lish government  had  given  him  the  rank  and  paid  the 
money,  but  there  all  had  ended.  The  officers  of  the 
army  were  obliged  to  salute  the  uniform  he  wore  and 
obey  his  orders,  but  they  were  not  obliged  to  personally 
associate  with  him,  and  absolutely  refused  to  do  so.  He 
was  despised  by  them  as  a  turncoat  and  traitor  to  his 
colors,  and  the  idea  now  of  being  subject  to  the  orders 
of  such  a  person  was  revolting.  Lord  Ferrers  espe- 
cially, who  had  never  made  any  secret  of  his  own  pro- 
found contempt  for  Arnold,  expressed  in  the  most  pub- 
lic places  and  with  utter  carelessness  his  sentiments. 
"  The  fellow's  a  malefactor !  "  he  growled.  "  What 


140  CANOLLES. 

the  devil  does  the  War  Office  mean  by  putting  a  jail- 
bird in  command  over  British  officers  and  gentlemen  ? 


We  regret  that  respect  for  the  proprieties  and  a  fear 
of  shocking  the  reader  prevents  us  from  recording  the 
expressions  indicated  by  the  space  here  left  blank. 
Such  a  salvo  of  oaths,  resembling  a  broadside  of  can- 
non, generally  concluded  the  observations  of  Col.  Fer- 
rers on  the  subject  of  Gen.  Arnold,  and  other  officers 
indulged  in  denunciations  as  bitter,  if  not  as  eloquent 
and  striking. 

The  officers,  headed  by  Col.  Ferrers,  were  in  this 
state  of  mind  in  regard  to  Arnold,  when  it  suddenly 
became  known  that  an  order  had  just  been  issued  re- 
versing the  reprieve  of  Canolles  by  Gen.  Phillips,  and 
directing  that  the  sentence  of  the  court-martial  con- 
demning him  to  death  should  be  executed  in  twenty- 
four  hours. 

When  -he  received  this  information  Col.  Ferrers  re- 
paired to  the  quarters  of  Gen.  Arnold,  remained  shut 
up  alone  for  an  hour  with  that  officer,  and  those  who 
were  within  hearing  knew  from  the  loud  and  angry 
voices  that  a  tempestuous  interview  was  taking  place. 
The  details  of  this  interview  were  known  to  no  persons 
but  those  who  took  part  in  it;  but  it  was  afterwards 
discovered  that  Lord  Ferrers  had  protested  indignantly 
against  the  death  of  Canolles ;  had  nearly  advanced  to 
the  point  of  a  personal  defiance  of  Gen.  Arnold;  and 
had  left  the  apartment  in  a  rage,  muttering  curses,  and 
expressing  his  opinion  of  Arnold  in  a  voice  loud 
enough  to  be  heard  by  every  one  in  his  vicinity. 


THE    SEQUEL.  141 

An  hour  afterwards  Gen.  Arnold  was  called  upon  to 
undergo  a  second  interview,  though  of  a  different 
character. 

Fanny  Talbot,  accompanied  by  Walter,  who  had  been 
permitted  to  go  free,  had  repaired  to  the  house  of  the 
friend  whom  she  had  mentioned,  Miss  Lucy  Maurice, 
the  daughter  of  a  gentleman  of  the  town,  and  had  here 
remained  without  seeking  an  interview  with  Canolles, 
but  employed  every  means  of  interesting  those  around 
her  in  his  case.  She  had  been  visited  daily  by  Lieut. 
Henry  Cartaret,  who  had  succeeded  in  procuring  his 
release  on  parole — the  object  of  Col.  Ferrers,  who  ef- 
fected his  release,  being  to  exchange  him  for  Lieut. 
Tom  Ferrers,  a  prisoner,  as  the  reader  will  recall,  in 
the  hands  of  the  Americans.  Harry,  who  had  prompt- 
ly visited  Canolles  in  his  prison,  now  joined  his  exer- 
tions to  those  of  Fanny  to  procure  the  pardon  of  the 
partisan,  and  like  Fanny  was  shocked  by  the  sudden 
intelligence  that  Canolles  would  be  shot  on  the  next 
morning. 

The  interview  which  Gen.  Arnold  was  now  called 
upon  to  pass  through,  immediately  after  that  with  Col. 
Ferrers,  was  with  Fanny. 

The  young  lady  remained  pleading  with  the  British 
commander  for  more  than  two  hours.  The  colloquy 
with  Ferrers  had  been  loud  and  angry — this  one  was 
full  of  sobs  and  tears  on  Fanny's  part,  to  which  Gen. 
Arnold  made  only  cold  and  brief  replies.  It  was  plain 
that  he  would  no  more  yield  to  the  entreaties  and  tears 
of  Miss  Talbot  than  to  the  indignant  protest  of  Col. 
Ferrers.  The  truth  was  that  the  denunciation  of  him- 


142  CANOLLES. 

self  by  Canolles  during  the  session  of  the  court-martial 
had  violently  enraged  Gen.  Arnold,  and  he  was  not  a 
man  to  forgive  a  person  who  had  so  bitterly  insulted 
him.  Every  word  uttered  by  the  partisan  rankled  in 
his  memory — his  fury  had  settled  down  into  a  cold 
resolution  to  wreak  revenge  upon  him — and  finding  the 
occasion  unexpectedly  present  itself,  he  seized  it, 
allowing  no  prayer  to  move  him. 

The  result  was  that  all  Fanny's  entreaties  were  un- 
heeded. They  even  aroused  in  him  a  sullen  animosity. 
He  would  send  the  man  who  had  publicly  insulted. him 
to  his  death,  if  only  to  announce  his  defiance  to  the 
officers  of  the  army,  with  whose  sentiments  towards 
himself  he  was  perfectly  familiar.  As  to  this  girl — the 
sweetheart,  perhaps,  of  the  prisoner — she  should  not 
even  see  him  again.  The  result  of  the  interview, 
therefore,  was  melancholy — it  had  better  have  never 
taken  place.  When  she  left  him,  he  said  briefly  to  the 
officer  of  the  guard  : 

"Send  that  young  woman  out  of  the  lines  of  this 
army  under  guard — in  an  hour — and  tell  her  that  I 
order  her  not  to  return." 

And  two  hours  afterwards  poor  Fanny,  mounted 
upon  the  horse  which  she  had  ridden  on  her  entrance 
into  Petersburg,  was  outside  the  lines',  making  her  way 
with  bitter  sobs  and  tears,  and  pitied  by  the  very 
soldiers  who  had  escorted  her,  to  Chatsworth. 

On  the  same  night  Lord  Ferrers  returned  to  the 
quarters  of  Gen.  Arnold  and  presented  him  with  a 
petition  signed  by  nearly  every  officer  in  the  army, 
asking  that  Canolles  might  be  reprieved  until  Lord 


THE    SEQUEL.  143 

Cornwallis  had  an  opportunity  to  decide  upon  his  case. 
Arnold  received  the  paper  stiffly  and  in  silence,  inform- 
ing Lord  Ferrers  coldly  tfiat  he  would  consider  it  and 
return  it  in  an  hour  with  his  endorsement.  To  this 
Lord  Ferrers  had  nothing  to  say;  he  returned  to  his 
quarters,  and  in  an  hour  the  petition  was  brought  back 
to  him  by  an  orderly.  The  endorsement  on  it  was  as 
follows : 

"Returned  disapproved.  The  prisoner  Canolles  was  tried  by 
court-martial  and  condemned  to  death  as  a  marauder.  As  I  see  no 
reason  to  disapprove  the  action  of  the  court,  it  is  hereby  approved, 
and  the  prisoner  Canolles  will  be  executed  at  sunrise  to-morrow. 

"B.  ARNOLD,  Brigadier-General." 

Col.  Ferrers,  on  perusing  this  endorsement,  fell  into 
such  a  rage  that  he  nearly  burst  an  artery.  He  repaired 
to  Canolles'  prison  arid  had  a  long  private  interview 
with  him  that  night,  promising  to  return  at  daylight. 

When  he  approached  the  door  of  the  house,  just  as 
the  first  gray  of  dawn  touched  the  dampness,  he  was 
surprised  to  observe  that  no  sentinel  was  posted  in 
front  of  it. 

A  step  further  brought  him  to  the  gateway  of  the 
in  closure.  He  opened  it — suddenly  his  foot  struck 
against  something,  and  looking  down  he  saw  that  it  was 
the  body  of  a  man,  evidently  the  sentinel  on  post.  He 
seemed  to  have  been  stunned,  probably  by  a  blow  from 
the  butt  of  a  musket  on  the  back  of  the  head,  as  his 
hair  was  bloody  and  his  breathing  indicated  that  he 
was  not  dead. 

Lord  Ferrers  walked  slowly  into  the  house,  a  grim 
smile  curling  his  white  mustache. 

"  Glad  of  it,"  he  muttered.     "  Canolles  is  safe,  and 


144  CANOLLES. 

his  Excellency  Gen.   Benedict  Arnold  will  probably 
have  a  fit ! " 

The  old  militaire  wound  u£  with  a  positive  chuckle, 
and  went  straight  to  the  room  occupied  by  Canolles. 
It  was  vacant,  but  he  saw  by  the  dim  light  struggling 
through  the  window  that  a  paper  was  lying  upon  the 
table.  He  took  it  up,  held  it  to  the  light  and  read : 

"  For  Colonel  Lord  Ferrers  : 

"I  shall  not  be  here,  my  dear  Colonel,  in  all  probability,  to  receive 
the  visit  which  your  brave  heart  made  you  promise.  I  am  free,  or 
soon  shall  be.  A  youth  of  my  command,  called  Walter  Hayfield, 
has  just  surprised  the  sentinel,  stunning  him  with  a  blow  from  his 
own  musket,  and  opened  my  prison  door. 

"As  the  moment  is  critical,  and  the  alarm  may  be  given,  I  must 
deny  myself  the  pleasure  of  writing  more. 

"I  have  not  left  the  paper  containing  a  statement  of  my  motives 
and  an  account  of  myself,  since  it  was  to  be  delivered  to  you  only 
when  I  was  dead.  As  it  is  possible  that  I  may  escape,  I  must  retain 
it  for  the  present,  even  from  one  to  whom  1  owe  more  than  1  can 
express.  ' '  CANOLLES.  " 

Col.  Ferrers  uttered  a  loud  laugh,  and  his  snowy 
mustache  again  curled  toward  his  eyes  with  enjoyment. 
"Well,  of  all  the  cool  fellows  !"  he  exclaimed.  "How 
is  it  possible  not  to  admire  a  man  like  that?" 

All  at  once  the  house  swarmed  with  the  guard,  who 
had  just  discovered  the  escape  of  the  prisoner. 

At  their  head,  half-dressed  only,  was  the  officer  of  the 
night,  the  young  lieutenant  who  had  exhibited  so  much 
sympathy  for  Canolles  when  conducted  to  his  execution. 

"What  is  the  matter?  What  has  occurred?"  he 
exclaimed,  rubbing  his  eyes.  "You  here,  my  Lord?" 

"Yes." 

"  Something  has  happened  ? " 


THE    SEQUEL.  145 

"  Certainly  something  has  happened,  Lieutenant — 
Canolles  has  given  Arnold  the  slip !" 

He  leaned  over  and  took  the  young  fellow's  arm, 
exclaiming,  with  another  laugh  : 

"And  I  wouldn't  have  him  recaptured  for  a  thousand 
pounds ! " 

10 


PART  II. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BY    MOONLIGHT. 

Under  the  moonlight  of  a  summer  night,  two  girls, 
in  the  grounds  of  Chatsworth,  were  holding  one  of 
those  private  and  confidential  interviews  dear  to  the 
hearts  of  maidens  in  their  bloom. 

The  theater  of  war  had  suddenly  been  shifted  from 
the  south  side  to  the  heart  of  the  Commonwealth  of 
Virginia.  Reaching  Petersburg  soon  after  the  death 
of  Phillips,  Lord  Cornwallis  had  assumed  command  of 
all  the  British  forces,  crossed  James  River,  advanced 
upon  Lafayette,  who  retired  before  him  toward  the 
Rappahannock,  and  penetrated  the  interior,  with  the 
sword  in  one  hand  and  the  torch  in  the  other. 

A  brief  and  fiery  episode  of  the  long  conflict  fol- 
lowed— fiery  in  every  sense,  since  Col.  Tarleton,  the 
revengeful  chief  of  the  English  cavalry,  defeated 
by  Morgan  at  the  Cowpens,  made  the  hot  weather 
hotter  still  by  setting  fire  to  mills,  barns  and  private 
dwellings — proceeding,  it  appeared,  upon  the  theory 
that  war  meant  war  on  the  unarmed  as  well  as  the 
armed,  on  non-combatants  as  on  enemies  sword  in 
hand.  Old  men  were  arrested,  negro  servants  carried 
off,  cattle  killed,  the  throats  of  suckling  colts  cut,  hen- 
houses rifled  and  the  whole  region  laid  waste.  Wher- 
ever Col.  Tarleton  moved  he  left  behind  him  blood, 
tears,  mourning,  and  the  prospect  of  starvation  for  the 


150  CANOLLES. 

poor  women  and  children,  flying  from  their  homes  in 
flames. 

A  hasty  dash  at  Charlottesville,  whence  the  Legis- 
lature escaped ;  a  fruitless  attempt  to  seize  Gov.  Jeffer- 
son at  Monticello — then  news  came  that  Lafayette  was 
marching  to  give  the  English  battle,  and  Lord  Corn- 
wall is,  apparently  so  anxious  to  prevent  the  boy  Lafay- 
ette from  escaping  him,  fell  back  rather  ingloriously 
towards  the  lowlands,  pursued, by  his  young  opponent. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  things  when  our  narrative 
resumes  its  course,  and  its  personages  reappear  upon 
the  scene. 

The  summer  night  at  Chatsworth  was  exquisite. 
Twilight  was  just  deepening  into  dark,  but  a  full-orbed 
moon,  soaring  through  light  clouds,  poured  a  flood  of 
dreamy  splendor  on  the  field,  the  forests  and  the  river. 

At  the  foot  of  the  Chatsworth  grounds,  and  imme- 
diately upon  the  banks  of  the  stream,  was  a  mass  of 
rock  nearly  covered  by  that  exquisitely  delicate  species 
of  Virginia  moss  resembling  emerald  velvet;  and  over- 
shadowing this  rock  was  a  solitary  pine,  which  had 
thrust  itself  through  a  cleft,  and  expanding  slowly  with 
the  passing  years,  now  towered  aloft,  the  deep  green 
tassels  of  its  crown  bending  over  the  water.  In  these 
tassels  of  the  great  tree  the  river  breeze  seemed  always 
whispering,  and  the  low  memorial  murmur  prompted 
to  those  dreams  which  spring  from  memory.  From 
the  rear  or  land  side  a  narrow  pathway  ran  around  to 
the  river  front,  gradually  ascending;  and  here,  near 
the  summit,  and  just  beneath  the  stump  of  the  pine, 
was  an  indentation  forming  a  seat  entirely  hidden  from 


BY    MOONLIGHT.  151 

an  observer  on  the  lawn  above.  From  this  romantic 
retreat,  on  spring,  or  summer,  or  autumn  days,  you 
looked  out  on  the  river,  with  its  white  sails  hovering 
like  waterfowl  with  outspread  wings  upon  the  current, 
on  the  far  misty  headlands  opposite,  and  the  blue  sky 
drooping  down  on  the  far  line  of  forests.  At  the  hour 
when  we  visit  it  now  all  this  was  only  dimly  visible, 
but  there  was  an  added  charm.  The  great  moon  had 
thrown  across  the  breast  of  the  stream  a  long  pathway 
of  light,  and  as  the  river  breeze  gently  agitated  the 
current  this  pathway  broke  into  silver  ripples,  over 
which  the  feet  of  fairies  might  have  danced — a  bridge 
of  beams  conducting  them  to  some  midnight  revelry 
to  which  "  the  horns  of  Elfland  faintly  blowing " 
summoned  them ! 

The  hiding  place  in  the  "  Moss  Rock,"  for  so  the 
spot  was  called,  was  occupied,  however,  on  this  night 
of  summer,  by  two  maidens  incontestably  of  mundane 
flesh  and  blood — most  attractive  if  not  fanciful  or  poetic 
beings,  with  slender  but  by  no  means  aerial  figures, 
faces  not  at  all  misty  in  the  morn,  but  blooming  like 
the  blush  rose,  and  white  arms,  which  the  summer 
evening  had  induced  them  to  divest  of  all  covering. 

One  of  them — Fanny  Talbot — presented  a  strong 
contrast  to  her  companion,  apparently  of  about  the  same 
age  as  herself.  Fanny,  with  her  large,  mild  eyes,  full 
of  that  dove-like  softness  which  we  have  described,'  and 
her  bearing  as  composed,  was  the  precise  opposite,  in- 
deed, of  the  other — Lucy  Maurice,  the  friend  with 
whom  she  had  stayed  in  Petersburg  when  she  had  gone 
thither  intent  on  saving  Canolles.  Lucy  was  brunette, 


152  CANOLLES. 

tall,  with  black  eyes,  raven  hair,  and  white  teeth,  spark- 
ling with  perpetual  smiles.  In  the  brilliant  eyes,  flash- 
ing with  the  spirit  of  fun,  the  rosy  cheeks  and  the  red 
lips,  never  compressed  or  drawn  down  with  prim  re- 
serve, you  read  the  very  soul  of  mirth,  health,  and  that 
buoyant  life  which  seems  to  defy  melancholy,  and 
make  its  possessor  as  happy  in  the  dark  days  as  in  the 
bright — ready,  if  the  sun  will  not  shine,  to  supply  from 
within  a  sunshine  of  its  own. 

Miss  Lucy  Maurice  had  wound  her  arm,  maiden 
fashion,  around  the  waist  of  Fanny — the  two  heads 
leaned  back  side  by  side  against  the  rock — brown  and 
raven  curls  entangled,  and  this  was  the  dialogue  which 
ensued  between  the  young  ladies. 


LUCY    MAURICE    AND    FANNY    TALBOT.  153 


CHAPTER  II. 

WHAT    LED    MISS    LUCY     MAURICE    TO    VISIT     MISS     FANNY 

TALBOT. 

But  perchance  the  reader  does  not  wholly  relish  this 
unceremonious  manner  of  introducing  a  new  person- 
age without  an  explanation  of  her  presence.  This 
explanation  is  simple. 

When  Fanny  went  on  her  brave  expedition  to  Pe- 
tersburg, she  sought  refuge  there,  as  we  have  seen,  with 
a  friend  of  hers,  the  daughter  of  a  gentleman  of  the 
town.  She  and  Lucy  Maurice  were  old  and  dear 
friends,  having  been  schoolmates  in  the  place ;  and  the 
warm-hearted  Lucy,  without  making  any  indiscreet  in- 
quiries in  regard  to  Fanny's  motives,  had  assisted  her 
in  every  manner  in  her  power,  quietly  deferring  to  the 
future  that  myriad  of  questions  which  burned  upon  her 
pretty  lips.  This  silence  was  the  result  of  delicacy  and 
a  fear  of  increasing  the  evident  pain  and  agitation  of 
her  friend.  When  Lieut.  Harry  Cartaret,  however, 
made  his  appearance  as  a  prisoner  on  parole,  and  she 
formed  his  acquaintance,  it  appeared  to  Miss  Lucy  that 
her  reticence  was  no  longer  necessary,  and  she  desired 
the  young  soldier  to  inform  her  who  the  person  called 
Canolles  really  was,  since  Fanny's  interest  in  a  mere 
freebooter  was  incredible.  To  this  plain  question 
Harry  Cartaret  had  made  an  evasive  reply,  looking 
very  gloomy.  But  gradually  his  gloom  was  dissipated 


154  CANOLLES. 

by  the  brilliant  light  of  Lucy  Maurice's  eyes,  and  it 
soon  became  plain  to  that  astute  young  lady  that  she 
was  making  a  conquest  of  the  youthful  son  of  Mars — 
an  idea  which  evidently  had  never  in  the  least  entered 
Lieut.  Harry's  mind. 

Had  Miss  Lucy  indeed  known  that  this  handsome 
young  fellow  was  engaged  to  be  married  to  Fanny,  such 
was  her  loyalty  and  affection  for  her  friend  that  she 
would  have  walked  over  burning  ploughshares  before 
she  would  have  flirted  with  him — would  have  turned 
her  back  abruptly  on  her  new  admirer.  Of  the  rela- 
tions between  Fanny  and  Harry  Cartaret  she  was, 
however,  perfectly  ignorant.  Then,  having  in  the  dull 
war  days  very  little  to  amuse  her,  and  delighted  to 
show  the  young  British  officers,  whom  she  treated  with 
immense  disdain,  how  very  different  and  more  charm- 
ing she  could  be  when  a  rebel  admirer  appeared,  Miss 
Maurice  suddenly  deployed  all  her  feminine  artillery; 
her  bright  eyes  shot  forth  smiles  full  of  fascinating 
preference ;  she  paraded  herself  side  by  side  with 
Harry  on  the  front  porch  of  her  father's  house  at  twi- 
light, as  the  young  British  warriors  clanked  by  in  gal- 
lant uniforms  and  with  envious  glances,  and  in  every 
manner  strove  to  say  to  those  jealous  youths,  "How 
stupid  you  seem  to  me,  and  how  I  detest  you  !  Here 
beside  me,  playing  with  the  rose  I  gave  him,  and 
whispering  to  me,  is  a  person  I  prefer  a  thousand  times 
to  you !  " 

It  was  delightful  to  tell  the  young  British  dandies 
this  without  speaking  to  them,  and  Miss  Lucy  keenly 
enjoyed  the  ceremony,  even  proceeding  so  far  as  to 


LUCY   MAURICE    AND    FANNY   TALBOT.  155 

deliberately  repair  at  dewy  eve  to  the  grassy  grounds 
around  the  old  Blandford  church,  much  frequented  by 
romantic  British  youths, 'and  there,  leaning  with  con- 
fiding sweetness  on  the  arm  of  Harry,  stroll  slowly  in 
the  pleasant  evening  with  her  eyes  cast  down,  a  modest 
color  in  her  cheeks,  and  pressing  to  her  lips  with  bash- 
ful confusion  a  rosebud — gave  no  doubt,  the  observant 
youths  concluded,  of  her  love  for  the  devilish  con- 
founded rebel  fellow  let  out  on  parole ! 

These  feminine  bumming  birds  will  act  thus;  but 
sometimes  they  hover  too  close  to  the  flowers,  and  the 
leaves  suddenly  close  and  hold  them.  Lucy  began  to 
be  interested  in  Harry  Cartaret — without  being  aware 
of  it.  She  had  flirted  with  him  for  her  amusement  and 
to  wreak  her  spite  upon  the  young  militaires,  her  ene- 
mies, but  gradually  her  feelings  became  engaged,  and 
she  grew  far  less  demonstrative.  There  were  now  no 
more  tete-a-tetes  upon  the  porch  with  sweet  side  glances 
from  sweet  eyes ;  no  more  promenades  around  Bland- 
ford,  and  wicked,  languishing  tones  and  stolen  looks — 
Miss  Lucy  Maurice  became  bashful  in  reality,  and  the 
change  had  a  stronger  influence  than  ever  on  her 
admirer.  It  was  plain  that  Harry  Cartaret  had  fallen 
in  love  with  Miss  Lucy  Maurice,  and  that  he  was  con- 
scious of  it  now — a  consciousness  which  did  not,  how- 
ever, seem  to  afford  him  much  enjoyment.  He  grew 
moody,  yielded  to  fits  of  gloom,  and  would  sit  for  a 
long  time  without  speaking  in  the  presence  of  Lucy, 
who  was  nearly  as  silent  as  himself. 

He  was  engaged  to  Fanny  Talbot,  and  he  was  in 
love  with  Lucy  Maurice.  There  was  the  source,  of 


156  CANOLLES. 

course,  of  poor  Harry's  gloom.  It  was  not  his  fault, 
lie  argued  with  himself — he  had  never  meant  in  the 
least  to  fall  in  love  with  the  pretty  face  beside  him — 
he  had  simply  opened  his  eyes  one  morning  to  find 
that  she  had  made  him  a  hopeless  captive — and  yonder, 
at  Chatsworth,  was  his 'betrothed  awaiting  him;  for 
Fanny,  the  reader  will  remember,  had  been  sent  out  of 
the  British  lines  by  Gen.  Arnold. 

Poor  Harry  brooded  over  this  unfortunate  state  of 
things,  and  felt  that  he  was  not  acting  like  a  gentleman 
in  the  least.  But  his  passion  remained  unchanged. 
What  was  he  to  do  ?  he  asked  himself.  Tell  Fanny 
frankly  that  his  love  had  changed  ?  Impossible  !  That 
appeared  to  him  in  the  light  of  absolute  dishonor,  and 
dishonor  must  never  attach  to  the  name  of  Cartaret ! 
Keep  his  troth  with  Fanny  ?  His  heart  sank  at  the 
thought.  How  marry  one  when  his  heart  was  wholly 
given  to  another?  In  whatever  direction  he  turned  all 
was  perplexity  and  misery,  and  it  was  with  something 
like  relief  that  the  young  fellow  heard  one  morning 
that  he  had  been  exchanged  for  Tom  Ferrers,  and  was 
at  liberty  to  return  to  the  American  camp.  He  had  a 
last  interview  \vith  Lucy — the  most  silent,  awkward 
and  constrained  interview  on  the  part  of  both — then 
with  some  muttered  words,  and  a  sudden  blush,  he 
bowed  over  her  hand,  touched  it  slightly  with  his  lips, 
and  left  her — left  a  maiden  who  proceeded  to  run  up- 
stairs to  her  chamber,  throw  herself  on  her  bed  and 
burst  out  crying. 

Then  Miss  Lucy  Maurice,  drying  her  eyes,  proceeded 
to  mope  and  render  her  affectionate  family  uneasy  in 


LUCY    MAURICE   AND    FANNY    TALBOT.  157 

reference  to  her  health.  What  could  have  produced 
so  sudden  a  change  in  her?  each  asked  the  other.  The 
heat?  Or  was  Petersburg  so  dull  and  humdrum  now 
since  my  Lord  Cornwallis  and  all  his  followers  had 
marched  away  that  it  oppressed  her?  Yes,  doubtless 
these  were  the  explanations  of  the  young  lady's  depres- 
sion; the  heat  and  dullness  of  the  town.  So  it  was 
suggested  that  she  should  have  change  of  air.  It  was 
utterly  shocking  that  so  healthy  a  damsel  should  rise 
from  breakfast  without  having  swallowed  a  mouthful ! 
and  the  suggestion  took  the  practical  form,  "Go  and 
make  a  visit  to  Fanny  Talbot,  at  Chatsworth,  where 
the  river  breezes  will  bring  back  your  appetite  .for 
breakfast!" 

Lucy  indifferently  acquiesced;  her  father  escorted 
her  to  Chatsworth,  where  Fanny  met  her  with  the 
warmest  affection,  Miss  Eleanor  with  great  politeness, 
and  Mrs.  Talbot  with  that  subdued  interest  which  she 
bestowed  equally  upon  every  occurrence ;  and  then 
Miss  Lucy  proceeded,  most  unexpectedly  and  against 
all  romantic  rules,  really  to  get  back  her  appetite. 
Youth,  like  truth,  is  mighty  and  will  prevail.  At 
eighteen  the  stomach  —  if  we  may  use  that  inelegant 
term,  for  which,  nevertheless,  there  is  no  more  elegant 
substitute — is  a  great  foe  of  romance.  Youth  demands 
food,  and  food  produces  health,  and  health  produces 
"  feeling  well,"  and  feeling  well  produces  cheerfulness, 
and  cheerfulness  that  enjoyment  of  life  resulting  in 
smiles  and  roses.  So  Lucy  grew  rosy,  and  smiled  now 
as  gaily  as  ever,  and  she  and  Fanny  deported  them- 
selves very  much  like  two  school-girls  on  a  holiday. 


158  CANOLLES. 

Fanny  had  courageously  thought  and  fought  down  her 
own  feeling  of  depression,  and  had  recovered  all  the 
brave  tranquillity  of  her  calm,  brave  character.  She 
and  Lucy  had  avoided  with  sedulous  care  any  allusion 
to  their  more  private  and  personal  matters,  while 
indulging  upon  all  else  with  perfect  unreserve;  and 
such  was  the  state  of  affairs,  when  rambling  out  on 
that  summer  night  by  moonlight,  the  young  ladies 
ascended  the  narrow  pathway  and  ensconced  themselves 
in  the  hiding  place  under  the  great  pine  on  the  Moss 
Eock. 


AT    THE    "  MOSS    ROCK.':  159 


CHAPTER  III. 

AT    THE.   "  MOSS-ROCK/' 

"  Who  is  Canolles  ?  I  might  as  well  tell  you,  Fan, 
that  I  have  been  burning — yes,  burning! — to  ask  that 
question  for  a  whole  month,  and  unless  it  is  agreeable 
to  you  to, contemplate  the  spectacle  of  your  friend  sud- 
denly bursting  and  expiring  from  pent-up  curiosity  you 
will  extremely  oblige  by  relieving  her  feelings,  as  it 
were  unlacing  her  corsage,  and  allowing  her  to  get  a 
little  breath." 

This  from  Miss  Lucy  Maurice,  and  then  quick  laugh- 
ter from  Fanny. 

"  Do  you  know  one  compliment  I  have  always  paid 
you,  Lucy?  " 

"  I  do  not.  I  know  I  have  paid  you  one  thousand — 
behind  your  back." 

"  I  am  sure  you  have.  Well,  the  especial  one  I  have 
paid  you  is  believing  that  you  have  no  curiosity." 

"  Me  !  "  screamed  Miss  Maurice,  with  doubtful  gram- 
matical correctness.  "  Good  gracious  !  If  there  is  any 
one  dear  delightful  vice  I  have  in  the  purest  perfection 
it  is  curiosity  ! " 

"  I  do  not  believe  that." 

"  It  is  perfectly  true." 

"  But  why  do  you  care  to  know  who  Capt.  Canolles 
is,  Lucy,  and  why  do  you  suppose  that  I  can  tell  you, 
if  there  is  anything  to  tell?" 


160  CANOLLES. 

"  You  will  please  not  play  the  female  diplomat  with 
me,  Miss  Talbot,  and  attempt  to  throw  dust  in  my  eyes. 
*  Why  do  I  suppose  that  you  can  tell  me  ?'  Because 
you  rode  through  the  British  lines  at  night  to  save  his 
life,  and  saved  it." 

Fanny  blushed  a  little  and  then  laughed  to  hide  what 
seemed  some  confusion. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  of  course  it  would  he  absurd  in 
me,  Lucy,  to  say  that  I  do  not  take  an  interest  in — that 
is — know  Capt.  Canolles " 

"  I  think  it  would!"  said  the  vivacious  Lucy,  with 
frank  laughter. 

"  Know  him,  that  is,"  continued  Fanny,  "  better  than 
some  other  people.  Yes,  Lucy,  I  am  acquainted  with 
him  and  have  a  sincere  friendship  for  him;  but  you 
must  let  me  add,  dear,  that  I  cannot  tell  you  anything 
more  than  this." 

"'Dear'!  oh!  yes!  You  are  growing  suddenly 
affectionate.  You  are  *  dear '-ing  me  now  !  I'll  be 
your  'darling7  next,  when  I'm  to  be  shut  up  and  si- 
lenced." 

"  You  are  my  darling,  now,"  said  Fanny,  with  her 
charming  smile,  and  quietly  turning  her  head  so  that 
her  cheek  lightly  touched  that  of  Lucy,  after  which 
brief  and  flitting  exhibition  of  feminine  fondness  she 
resumed  her  dignity  by  withdrawing  the  cheek. 

"  Oh !  very  well.  Here  we  are  billing  and  cooing 
like  two  ring-doves  in  love  with  each  other,"  exclaimed 
Lucy,  "  and  I  suppose  if  one  of  the  stronger  vessels  of 
the  masculine  sex  were  to  see  us  his  lordly  nose  would 
turn  up  in  scorn  of  such  lackadaisical  proceedings  ! 


AT    THE    "  MOSS    ROCK."  161 

Men  never  believe  that  women  care  anything  for  each 
other,  and  as  to  their  kisses,  they  declare  that  we 
always  kiss  just  before  we  begin  to  scratch  each 
other." 

"  We  at  least  have  never  yet  scratched  each  other, 
Lucy." 

"  And  I  trust  we  are  not  going  to  begin  on  the  pres- 
ent occasion.  But — shall  I  be  frank,  Fan  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  feel  a  violent  desire  to  scratch  you  now  !  You 
know  I  am  dying  with  curiosity.  I  have  attempted  to 
express  my  feelings  by  that  lovely  figure  of  a  corsage 
that  is  too  tight  to  let  one  breathe — and  you  will  tell 
me  nothing." 

"  Lucy,  dear,"  said  Fanny,  repeating  the  obnoxious 
form  of  address,  "I  would  tell  you  everything  I  know 
about  Capt.  Canolles,  as  he  calls  himself— and  by  one 
of  the  strangest  chances  in  the  world  I  know  everything 
connected  with  him — but  I  cannot.  He  wishes  to.  re- 
main to  all  but  a  few  persons  only  what  he  appears  to 
be,  for  the  present  at  least;  and  to  reveal  his  secret 
even  to  you  would  not  be  honorable  in  me.  You  see 
I  am  speaking  candidly  and  seriously.  I  do  not  at- 
tempt to  conceal  from  you — I  cannot — that  Capt.  Ca- 
nolles is  not  the  person  he  seems  to  be.  Who  and  what 
he  is  I  have  no  right  to  say,  darling." 

"  There  it  is  at  last !  I  knew  it  was  coming.  i  Dar- 
ling! '  Very  well.  I  see,  Fan,  there  is  no  more  to  say. 
Keep  your  secret.  Only  one  other  question." 

"  Ask  it,  and  if  I  can  answer  it  I  will." 

Miss  Lucy  looked  her  companion  full  in  the  eye. 
11 


162  CANOLLES. 

"  My  question  is  going  to  be  indiscreet." 

"  I  am  sure  it  will  not  be." 

"Well,  you  shall  form  your  own  opinion,  and  you 
must  tell  your  '  dear  darling' this  at  least.  Is  Capt. 
Canolles 1  am  almost  afraid  !" 

"Goon!" 

"  Is  Capt.  Canolles — that  is,  does  he — are  there — 
that  is  to  say — any  peculiar  relations  existing  between 
— yourself  and  that  gentleman  ?  " 

"  None  in  the  world  ! "  Fanny  replied  emphatically, 
with  the  same  blush. 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  to  hear  that.  I've  no  doubt  your 
friend  is  a  gallant  fellow — everybody  says  so — but  you 
should  marry  some  staid  and  respectable  squire,  with  a 
big  mansion-house,  not  a  wandering  soldier,  who  car- 
ries his  house  on  his  back — that  is,  in  a  roll  behind  his 
saddle." 

Fanny,  recovering  her  calmness,  greeted  these  words 
Avith  a  smile  : 

"  Will  you  follow  your  own  advice  ?" 

"I? — I  have  no  intention  of  marrying.''' 

"  You  say  that  a  little  sadly,  Lucy.  I  hope  you  have 
not  gone,  like  the  dear  imprudent  thing  you  are,  and 
lost  your  heart  to  anybody?" 

It  was  Lucy's  turn  to  blush,  which  she  proceeded  to 
do,  not  with  the  moderation  of  her  friend,  but  in  the 
most  vivacious  and  unmistakable  manner.  In  fact, 
Miss  Lucy  Maurice  turned  crimson,  and  vainly  essayed 
to  laugh. 

"  Of  course  not.     How  absurd  I  should  be." 


AT    THE    "MOSS    ROCK/'  163 

"  You  have  seen  no  one  then  to  fancy  ?  " 

"  No  one  whatever." 

Fanny  remained  silent  for  some  moments ;  then  she 
said  quietly : 

"  Do  you  know  an  idle  thought  occurred  to  me?" 

"  What  idle  thought?" 

"  You  will  certainly  laugh,  but  the  fancy  came.  Shall 
I  tell  you  what  it  was  ?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  I  have  a  cousin  in  the  army." 

"  Indeed  !  And  pray  what  is  the  meaning  of  that 
sudden  and  apparently  irrelevant  statement,  madam  ?" 

"A  cousin  who  is  an  acquaintance  of  yours." 

"  Of  mine  !  " 

A  quiet  flush  followed ;  it  was  plain  that  Miss  Lucy 
Maurice  began  to  understand  what  was  coming. 

"A  cousin  whose  name  is  Henry  Cartaret — whose 
acquaintance  you  made,  you  remember,  at  Petersburg." 

"  Yes— I  believe  I  did  see  him  —  once  or  twice." 

"Why,  Lucy!  you  know  you  saw  him  more  than 
once  or  twice  before  I  was  sent  from  the  town  ! " 

"  I  did  not  count  the  number  of  times,"  was  the 
reply,  in  a  tone  of  affected  indifference. 

"Well,  to  speak  plainly,  I  thought,  perhaps,  that 
you  and  Harry  might  take  a  fancy  to  each  other." 

"What  an  idea!" 

"The  idea  is  not  so  absurd.  He  is  very  brave  and 
handsome,  and  somebody  else  is  very  pretty,  as  well  as 
otherwise  attractive." 

"Call  me  'dear,'  now,  and  ' darling,'  do." 


164  CANOLLES. 

"  I  would  like  to  call  you  cousin — and  you  would  be 
my  cousin  if  you  were  married  to  Harry." 

"Well,  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  we  shall  never  be  more 
closely  related  than  we  are  at  present,  my  dear/'  said 
Miss  Lucy,  in  a  tone  of  decided  pique.  "  Lieut.  Cartaret 
and  myself  are  merely  acquaintances,  and  to  set  at  rest 
forever,  Fan,  any  suspicions  you  may  have  upon  any 
such  subject,  I  beg  to  inform  you  that  there  are  no 
private  or  personal  relations  of  any  description  what- 
ever existing  between  myself  and  your  cousin,  the 
lieutenant." 

"I  am  sorry." 

"As  you  are  so  very  great  an  admirer  of  his,  and  so 
ardently  desire  that  my  happiness  should  be  consum- 
mated in  the  manner  you  intimate — which  you  evidently 
think  would  be  the  result — why  not  set  your  own  lady- 
ship's cap  for  his  lieutenantship  ? — this  paragon  whom 
you  desire  for  your  friend  ?  " 

Fanny  made  no  reply.  The  color  slowly  mounted 
to  her  face.  She  was  evidently  hesitating. 

"  You  have  not  answered  me  ! "  said  Lucy. 

Fanny  still  hesitated.     Then  she  said  : 

"  Lucy,  I  should  have  told  you  something  about 
myself  before  this  time." 

"  Something  about  yourself?" 

"  You  are  my  oldest  and  dearest  friend,  Lucy,  and 
you  and  I  should  have  no  secrets  from  each  other." 

"  Certainly  we  should  not;  but  what  in  the  world  do 
you  mean,  Fan  ?  " 

"I  mean " 


165 

The  young  lady  again  hesitated. 

"You  mean .  For  Heaven's  sake  relieve  my 

suspense.  You  mean " 

"  I  am  engaged  to  be  married  to  my  cousin,  Henry 
Cartaret." 


166  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

SHOWING    THAT    IT    IS     HIGHLY     IMPRUDENT     FOE    YOUNG 
LADIES    TO    TALK   IN   THEIR    SLEEP. 

A  silence  so  deep  that  the  whispers  of  the  great  pine 
sounded  positively  loud  followed  Fanny's  announce- 
ment that  she  was  engaged  to  Harry  Cartaret.  Lucy 
did  not  speak,  but  her  friend  felt  the  heart  against  her 
arm  beat  more  rapidly. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Lucy?"  she  said,  "something 
seems  to  agitate  you." 

"Agitate  me!  "Not  in  the  least!"  was  the  low 
response,  accompanied  by  a  short  laugh.  "What  in 
the  world  makes  you  think  so  ? " 

"I  can  feel  your  heart  beating,  and  you  are  positively 
blushing." 

"What  a  fancy !  So  you  are  engaged  to  Lieutenant 
Cartaret?" 

"Yes." 

"Since  how  long?" 

"Two  or  three  years." 

"And — and — the  engagement  is  not  particularly 
agreeable,  I  suppose;  a  very  natural  conclusion,  you 
must  allow,  Fanny,  as  you  seem  desirous  of  bestowing 
your  fiancee  upon  your  friend ! " 

Fanny  hesitated. 

"A  natural  conclusion,  I  must  confess,"  she  said  at 
length. 


YOUNG    LADIES    TALKING    IN    THEIR    SLEEP.  167 

"  What  other  could  I  possibly  come  to  ?  " 

Lucy  again  attempted  a  light  laugh,  only  half  suc- 
ceeding, and  added: 

"When  a  lady  is  engaged  to  a  gentleman  the  theory 
commonly  accepted  is  that  she  proposes  to  espouse 
him.  If,  instead  of  proposing  to  espouse  him,  she  is 
anxious  to  dispose  of  her  interest  in  the  beloved  one, 
or  the  one  who  ought  to  be  beloved,  to  another  person, 
we  are  at  liberty  to  form  a  conjecture  at  least  that  she 
repents  of  her  contract  and  would  like  to  terminate 
confidential  relations  with  the  dear  object!" 

Fanny  sighed  and  said  : 

"Years  alter  things  so  in  this  world,  dear.  I  was 
almost  a  child  when  I  became  engaged  to  Harry." 

"And  the  woman  would  like  to  select  for  herself, 
not  merely  ratify  the  child's  selection." 

"  I  do  not  care  to  select  anybody/' 

"  You  do  not  ?" 

"Indeed,  no." 

"  On  your  word  of  honor,  Fan?" 

"On  my  word  of  honor." 

Lucy  Maurice's  pretty  face  assumed  a  rather  wicked 
expression. 

"I  only  asked,"  she  said  innocently,  "since  some- 
thing had  made  me  suppose  that  Miss  Fanny  Talbot 
had —  But  I  must  not  tell  tales." 

"Telltales?" 

"  I  dreamed — perhaps  it  was  only  a  dream — " 

"  You  dreamed ! " 

"  That  is  to  say,  Fan,  it  was  you  who  dreamed." 


168  CANOLLES. 

"  Your  words  are  a  puzzle  to  me,  dear.  Please  tell 
me  plainly  what  you  mean." 

"Shall  I?" 

"Yes,  yes!" 

"  You  will  not  be  put  out  with  me  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"Even  if  I  appear  in  the  light  of  an  eavesdropper  ?" 

"  An  eavesdropper — you  !  " 

"  Or  something  of  the  sort  at  least." 

"It  is  impossible  that  you  could  ever  act  in  such  a 
character,  Lucy.  You  are  the  very  last  person  in  the 
world  I  should  ever  suspect  of  such  a  proceeding." 

"  And  yet  I  have  been  guilty  of  it,"  was  the  reply. 

"  I  do  not  believe  a  word  you  say.  You  listened  ? 
overheard?  Where  did  you  listen,  and  when;  and 
what  was  it  you  overheard  persuading  you  that  I  had 
any — well,  preference  for  any  one  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you,  as  I  see  that  you  are  bursting  with 
curiosity,  my  dear,"  Miss  Lucy  responded,  with  another 
laugh,  ""and,  in  order  that  my  explanation  may  have 
that  deep  interest  which  attaches  to  the  pretty  pictures 
in  the  romancy,  I  will  first  describe  the  scene  of  the 
incident  which  I  purpose  to  relate,  beginning  in  the 
true  style  of  romance.  Shall  I  ?  " 

"  Lucy,  there  is  some  wickedness  under  all  this,"  said 
Fanny,  smiling.  "  I  never  saw  that  expression  upon 
your  face — that  wicked  smile — unless  you  were  about 
to  sacrifice  some  one  to  your  fondness  for  teasing." 

"  Very  well ;  but  allow  me  to  proceed." 

"  I  shall  try  not  to  interrupt  you." 


YOUNG    LADIES    TALKING   IN    THEIR    SLEEP.  169 

Assuming  a  grave  expression,  or  attempting  to  do  so; 
Miss  Lucy  Maurice  continued  : 

"Once  upon  a  time  there  were  two  young  ladies 
living  in  an  ancient  manor  house — I  believe  it  was  in 
England — but  having  always  labored  under  a  disgrace- 
ful weakness  in  reference  to  localities,  the  points  of  the 
compass  and  topography  in  general,  I  am  unable  to  be 
precisely  accurate,  upon  the  point  in  question.  The 
name  of  the  house  I  am  able  to  say,  however,  was 
'  Chatsworth,'  and  to  this  hospitable  abode  one  of  the 
young  ladies  above  described  had  come  on  .a  visit  to  the 
other  above  described.  I  deceive  myself.  I  have  not 
described  them.  Let  me  proceed  to  do  so  in  a  few 
brief  pages,  in  order  that  a  distinct  idea  may  be  formed 
of  the  personages  who  are  the  heroines  of  the  deeply 
interesting  incident  about  to  be  related." 

Miss  Maurice  laughed,  sotto  voce,  and  went  on : 

"Fancy  two  young  creatures  of  eighteen,  the  one 
called  Fanny,  the  other  Lucy — the  former  a  dear,  sweet, 
languishing,  romantic  maiden,  with  the  softest  and 
dearest  eyes,  and  so  lovely  that  all  loved  her ;  the  lat- 
ter a  wicked,  heartless  creature,  dark,  spiteful,  fond  of 
making  all  around  her  miserable — " 

"What  an  absurd  caricature  of  both  your  heroines!" 
said  Fanny,  smiling. 

"Oh,  no!  quite  accurate! — perfectly  accurate,  I 
assure  you ! " 

"  Very  well,  Miss ;  but  the  incident.'' 

"  The  incident?  Do  you  imagine,  Miss  Talbot,  that 
I  am  so  ignorant  of  the  rules  of  the  great  art  of 


170  CANOLLES. 

romance  writing  as  to  rush  into  my  subject  in  such  an 
abrupt  mariner  as  you  suggest  ?  I  have  just  said  that 
I  propose  dedicating  a  few  brief  pages  to  the  portraits 
of  my  heroines." 


"  Let  me  imagine  them." 


"  Impossible — where  would  be  the  fair  authoress  if 
she  thus  cut  short  her  narrative  and  wasted  her  mate- 
rial ?  Do  you  wish  me  to  take  refuge.in  thrilling  meta- 
physical analysis,  superbly  superior  to  incident  and — 
interest?  Have  you  read  'Sir  Charles  Grandison?' 
If  not,  go  peruse  that  sweet  romance  and  see  how  many 
words  Mr.  Richardson  manages  to  employ,  keeping  the 
reader  in  delightful  suspense  as  he  proceeds,  which  I 
think,  however,  is  better,  after  all,  than  the  metaphysi- 
cal analysis." 

Fanny  shook  her  head  and  Lucy  went  on  : 

"  Well,  as  your  ladyship  is  impatient,  I  will  spare 
you  the  rest,  and  rush  to  my  denouement  by  saying  that 
on  a  beautiful  summer  night — it  was  the  month  of 
June,  the  moon  was — but  fill  up  the  picture !  Enough, 
that  the  two  maidens  had  retired  to  rest  in  one  cham- 
ber and  one  bed — not  in  two  chambers  and  one  bed, 
observe,  my  dear  !  " 

"  Go  on  !  go  on  !  Lucy.     You  are  incorrigible  !  " 

"  Had  retired  to  bed,  as  I  said  before  I  was  inter- 
rupted," continued  the  incorrigible  one,  "  and  was 
sound  asleep,  when  suddenly — suddenly — " 

"What?" 

"  When  suddenly — what  do  you  think  ?  That  a 
musical  instrument  was  heard  without,  in  the  dreamy 
moonlight,  and  a  rich  deep  voice  was  heard  to  accom- 


YOUNG   LADIES    TALKING   IN    THEIR    SLEEP.  171 

pany  it  in  a  madrigal  ?  No  I  guess  again.  Was  it  a 
rope  ladder  thrown  aloft  in  order  that  one  of  the 
maidens  might  elope  with  the  lover  in  whose  face  her 
cruel  parents  had  slammed  the  front  door  ?  No!  guess 
again.  What  was  it  that  occurred  so  suddenly  ?  You 
observe  I  use  the  term  suddenly." 

"0Yes,  I  observe  it  since  you  have  used  it,  you  fool- 
ish girl,  nearly  half  a  dozen  times.  I  shall  not  guess 
at  all.  What  was  this  sudden  incident?  " 

"  Well,  one  of  the  maidens  suddenly — awoke  !  " 

"  And  was  that  all  ?  A  romantic  incident,  in 
truth !  " 

"  Not  astounding,  I  confess,  but  confess  in  your  turn 
that  my  manner  of  prefacing  the  incident  excited  your 
curiosity  to  ascertain  the  sequel." 

"  Which  is  quite  unworthy  of  such  an  elaborate 
introduction." 

"  True,  but  observe  that  I  am  following  the  estab- 
lished rules  of  romance- writing." 

"  Please  forget  them  and  come  to  the  point.  One  of 
the  maidens  awoke — a  bat  flew  into  the  room,  per- 
haps—" 

"  No  !  no  !  In  that  case  I — that  is,  she — would  have 
died  with  fright." 

O 

"  So  the  one  who  woke  was  the  dark  beauty?" 

"  Yes.  It  was  probably  a  whippoorwill  crying  from 
a  tree  near  the  house  which  aroused  her ;  at  all  events 
she  rose  in  bed  and  gazed  around  her  with  startled 
eyes." 

"  Why  not  say  sleepy  eyes  ? " 

"  Sleepy  is  prosaic  and  unworthy  of  romantic  use. 


172  CANOLLES. 

Startled!  startled  is  the  word;  with  startled  eyes! 
And  there,  strange  to  say,  plain  before  her  in  the  moon- 
light, so  clearly  outlined  in  the  brilliant  beams  pouring 
through  the  tall  window  of  the  chamber,  decorated 
with  rich  carvings,  and  old  furniture,  through  long 
mysterious  shadows — so  clearly  outlined,  I  say,  that 
the  eye  took  in  without  difficulty  every  detail  connected 
with  the  figure — there  before  her  was — was — can  y6u 
imagine  what  she  saw  ?  " 

"Not  possibly!" 

"  There  before  her  in  the  moonlight  was — her  com- 
panion, sound  asleep." 

"Pshaw!"  exclaimed  Fanny.  "Luce  and  goose 
rhyme  pat,  and  to  the  purpose !" 

"  Very  well ;  if  that  is  the  manner  in  which  my 
efforts  to  interest  are  to  be  treated,  I  shall  not  fur- 
ther trouble  your  ladyship  or  relate  the  incident." 

"  There  is,  then,  a  real  incident?  " 

"  Certainly  there  is,  or  was." 

"  If  you  will  tell  me  what  it  was  I  will  strive  to  listen 
in  silence." 

"Very  well.  lam  not  unforgiving — to  proceed  to 
the  incident.  There  before  the  maiden  who  had  waked 
up  was  the  maiden  who  was  asleep,  and  I  assure  you 
she  was  a  beauty.  Do  not  let  me  yield  to  the  raptures 
of  description,  but  simply  observe  that  she  was  lying 
with  one  white  arm  placed  gracefully  beneath  her  head, 
her  beautiful  brown  curls  tucked  carelessly  about  her 
snowy  forehead,  and  her  lips  just  parted,  showing  the 
pearls  beneath — orient  pearls  in  vivid  contrast  to  the 
rich  carnations  of  the  pouting  lips,  and  the  sweet 
blush-roses  blooming  in  the  maiden  cheeks." 


YOUNG   LADIES    TALKING   IN   THEIR    SLEEP.          173 

"  Lucy,"  said  Miss  Fanny,  "  of  all  the  geese  I  have 
ever — " 

"  You  said  you'd  not  interrupt  me,  Miss,  and  your 
word  is  broken.  But  to  terminate  this  narrative.  The 
maiden  was  asleep,  as  I  have  previously  related,  and 
her  sleep  was  tranquil  at  first.  As  her  companion, 
however,  gazed  at  her,  her  features  contracted,  and  an 
expression  of  pain  and  terror  passed  over  them,  effacing 
all  their  tranquillity.  Then  she  began  to  murmur  some 
broken  words — she  uttered  a  name — " 

"Ah!"  said  Fanny,  in  a  low  tone — "a  name?" 

"The  maiden's  words  were  —  uttered  in  a  piteous 
voice — " 

"What  were  they?"  said  Fanny,  in  the  same  low 
tone. 

"  Oh,  no !  no ! — do  not  take  his  life  !  Hartley  !  Hart- 
ley !  I  shall  die  if  you  die — since  reading  that  paper !  " 

Fanny's  head  sank  until  her  face  was  entirely  con- 
cealed in  shadow. 

"  Did  I  say  that  ?"  she  murmured. 

"Yes,  Fan,"  was  the  reply  of  her  friend  in  a  serious 
and  earnest  tone;  and  now,  dear,  you  must  forgive  me 
for  even  seeming  to  have  wished  to  overhear  what  you 
muttered  in  sleep.  I  could  not  avoid  hearing  what 
you  said,  and  have  not  the  least  desire  to  have  you 
explain  anything.  Forgive  my  thoughtless  jest  about 
your  interest  in  some  one — in  some  one  bearing  the 
name  you  uttered." 

"  The  name  ?"  came  from  Fanny,  in  the  same  voice. 

"  The  name  of  Hartley." 

Fanny  was  silent  for  a  long  time.  She  then  said  in 
a  low,  earnest  tone  : 


174  CANOLLES. 

"  I  have  nothing  in  the  world  to  forgive,  Lucy,  dear, 
and  it  would  be  very  unjust  indeed  to  find  fault  with 
you  for  simply  hearing.  Some  of  these  days  you  shall 
know  all  about  everything,  and — the  person  whose 
name  escaped  me  that  night.  I  cannot  tell  you  now, 
for  reasons  you  shall  know  fully  some  day,  perhaps 
very  soon.  Does  that  reconcile  you  to  your  friend's 
concealment?" 

"A  hundred  times,  Fan  !"  exclaimed  the  impulsive 
Lucy,  bestowing  an  earnest  kiss  upon  the  other's  cheek; 
"and  now,  as  it  is  getting  late,  let  us  stop  talking  and 
go  home." 

Fanny  arose,  and  they  were  about  to  descend  the 
narrow  pathway  leading  around  the  Moss  Rock,  down 
to  the  grass  of  the  lawp,  when  the  tramp  of  hoofs  was 
heard  coming  down  the  bank  of  the  river. 

They  started  and  listened.  There  were  no  troops  in 
this  region,  though  Lord  Cornwallis  was  known  to  be 
on  his  retreat  near  Richmond.  In  war  times,  however, 
the  unknown  is  always  the  suspicious,  since  it  may  be 
the  dangerous,  and  the  two  girls  hastily  descended  the 
rock,  reached  the  lawn,  and  ran,  arm  in  arm — two  flit- 
ting phantoms  of  the  moonlight  night — toward  the 
house. 

Before  they  could  reach  it,  the  trample  of  hoofs  was 
near  at  hand,  dark  figures  emerged  from  the  forest, 
and  a  troop  of  about  twenty  men,  evidently  from  their 
uniform  English  cavalry,  rode  into  the  ground. 


THE    PAYMENT.  175 


CHAPTER  Y. 

THE    PAYMENT. 

In  order  that  the  reader  may  form  an  intelligent  con- 
ception of  the  scene  which  now  took  place  at  Chats- 
worth  and  in  its  vicinity,  it  will  be  necessary  to  return 
to  the  preceding  night  and  relate  some  occurrences  at 
and  near  the  then  small  town  of  Eichmond. 

Just  as  night  had  fallen  two  persons  were  holding  an 
interview  in  a  small  house  on  the  slope  of  what  was 
and  still  is  called  "Shockoe  Hill,"  and  from  the  papers 
lying  upon  the  table  before  them  it  was  plain  that  the 
interview  was  one  of  business. 

One  of  these  persons  was  a  gray-haired  merchant  of 
the  place,  a  quiet-looking  old  gentleman,  clad  in  black, 
who  leaned  back  in  his  arm-chair  and  gazed  at  his 
companion  with  a  smile  of  evident  satisfaction. 

This  companion  was  our  friend  Capt.  Canolles,  clad 
in  his  ordinary  dress,  half  military,  half  civilian. 
Around  his  waist  was  a  belt  containing  a  brace  of 
pistols,  but  no  broadsword,  and  his  hat  and  gloves  lay 
upon  a  chair  beside  two  canvas  bags  plethoric  appar- 
ently with  coin. 

The  countenance  of  Canolles  wore  its  habitual  ex- 
pression of  calmness,  or  perhaps  phlegm  would  be  the 
more  appropriate  word.  The  dark  eyes  of  the  soldier 
were  fixed  upon  the  old  merchant  with  a  thoughtful 
air,  and  he  had  evidently  been  speaking  whilst  the 


176  CANOLLES. 

other  listened.  For  the  moment  there  was  silence  in 
the  apartment — only  through  the  open  door  was  heard 
a  subdued  murmur  of  voices,  apparently  those  of  two 
persons  seated  on  the  steps  leading  to  the  front  door  of 
the  small  house,  overshadowed  by  the  boughs  of  an 
elm — two  persons  who  seemed  to  be  conversing  confi- 
dentially under  the  friendly  stars  of  the  summer  night, 
and  with  the  murmur  mingled  from  time  to  time  the 
quick  sound  of  a  horse  impatiently  pawing. 

"  Well,"  said  the  old  merchant,  "  all  is  then  arranged, 
Captain,  and  nothing  remains  but  to  execute  the  paper." 

"Nothing,  my  dear  Mr.  Atwell,"  was  the  reply  of 
Canolles. 

"Before  finishing  our  business,  however,  Captain," 
continued  the  old  man, .with  a  smile,  "  may  I  beg  you 
to  afford  me  information  in  a  private  matter  ? " 

"  A  private  matter?  " 

"  I  would  ask  of  you  some  particulars  in  reference  to 
your  young  friend,  Walter  Hayfield." 

"  Ah!  in  reference  to  Walter?" 

The  merchant  nodded. 

"  I  have  peculiar  reasons  for  ascertaining  his  char- 
acter, origin,  and  any  other  details  you  may  be  pleased 
to  give." 

"  I  will  inform  you  with  great  pleasure.  He  is  the 
son  of  a  very  estimable  gentleman  with  whom  I  was 
very  well  acquainted — Mr.  Hayfield,  of  Charles  City — 
at  one  time  the  owner  of  a  very  good  estate,  which  he 
lost  by  generous  living,  and  afterwards  a  teacher.  He 
was  greatly  esteemed,  and  Walter  is  the  counterpart  of 


THE    PAYMENT.  177 

his  father — a  young  man  of  the  highest  character  and  a 
great  favorite  with  me." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that,  Captain.  An  old  man  of 
business  like  myself  is  disposed  to  consider  nothing  so 
reliable  as  the  voucher  on  such  occasions  of  a  gentleman 
of  your  character.  It  is  not  flattery  to  you  to  say,  Cap- 
tain, that  when  you  tell  me  a  thing  I  require  no  more, 
and  know  that  it  is  so." 

Canolles  inclined  his  head  and  replied : 

"  I  am  truly  pleased  to  find,  Mr.  Atwell,  that  a 
tolerably  thorough  acquaintance  with  each  other  during 
a  number  of  years  has  impressed  you  with  the  same 
good  opinion  of  myself  that  I  most  certainly  entertain 
for  you.  But  is  it  indiscreet  in  me  to  inquire  why  you 
are  so  anxious  to  know  "Walter's  character?  Do  you 
propose  to  offer  the  youngster  a  place  in  your  counting- 
house — turning  the  youthful  militaire  into  a  clerk?" 

"  Perhaps,"  said  the  old  merchant,  smilingly. 

Canolles  shook  his  head. 

"I  do  not  think  he  will  accept  an  offer  even  so  ad- 
vantageous, but  do  not  know." 

"  Suppose  I  were  to  propose  to  him  in  time  to  become 
my  partner  and  successor?" 

Canolles  looked  at  the  speaker  with  some  astonish- 
ment and  said  : 

"  I  confess  you  puzzle  me  greatly,  Mr.  Atwell.  You 
have  not  informed  me  of  the  source  of  this  interest  in 
Walter — at  which,  however,  I  must  add, -I  am  greatly 
pleased,  since  my  own  interest  in  him  is  warm." 

The   merchant,  with   the   same   smile   on    his   lips 
12 


178  CANOLLES. 

slowly  pointed  through  the  door  through  which  came 
the  low  voices. 

"  Listen,  Captain,"  he  said.     v 

"Ah!"  was  the  reply,  "I  really  think  I  begin  to 
understand  little  Miss  Annie." 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  merchant,  smiling,  "Annie  and 
Walter  have  fallen  in  love  with  each  other,  like  the 
two  foolish  young  people  they  are,  and  I  made  up  my 
mind  twenty  years  ago,  my  dear  Capt.  Canolles,  never 
to  thwart  another  love  affair,  as  the  phrase  is,  unless 
under  a  solemn  obligation  of  duty.  I  say  another — 
you  are  an  old  friend,  and  I  will  explain  the  word.  I 
had  a  very  dear  daughter,  who  placed  her  affections 
upon  a  poor  but  estimable  youth.  In  my  narrow- 
mindedness  I  refused  my  consent  to  their  union,  and, 
I  fear,  worried  the  poor  child  into  marriage  with  a 
richer  suiter.  The  marriage  was  a  wretched  one,  and 
my  dear  girl  soon  died,  and  from  that  moment  I 
resolved  never  again  to  interfere  on  such  occasions, 
save  in  the  event  of  utter  unworthiness  in  a  suitor." 

"And  you  are  right,  Mr.  Atwell.  A  father  is  justi- 
fiable in  opposing  a  daughter's  marriage  with  an  un- 
worthy person  who  will  make  her  miserable  by  his 
vices  or  his  neglect.  Simple  want  of  money,  where 
there  is  good  character  and  energy,  should  not  prove 
an  insuperable  bar." 

"  I  fully  agree  with  you." 

"  So  you  have  resolved  not  to  oppose  Walter's  union 
with  Miss  Annie  ?  " 

"I  shall  favor  it  since  hearing  from  your  lips  so  high 
a  character  of  him.  And  I  am  not  acting,  perhaps,  so 


THE    PAYMENT.  179 

generously  as  you  imagine.  I  am  seventy-two,  and 
must  soon  pass  away.  Annie  is  my  only  child  now,  and 
would  be  left  without  a  protector.  If  she  marries 
Walter,  I  shall  take  him  as  a  partner.  He  will  succeed 
to  the  business  when  the  war  and  my  life  end,  both 
which  will,  I  think,  occur  very  soon — and  I  shall  sleep 
in  peace.7' 

"  The  most  rational  of  plans,  Mr.  Atwell,"  said 
Canolles,  "  and  I  assure  you  the  information  of  your 
intention  quite  delights  me.  Well,  as  Walter's  affairs 
are  all  arranged  now,  and  I  have  business  to-night, 
oblige  me  by  terminating  our  own  affairs.  I  will  pro- 
ceed to  count  the  sum  I  have  brought  you  to  discharge 
the  remainder  of  the  obligation." 

As  he  spoke,  Canolles  opened  the  canvas  bags  and 
emptied  their  contents  upon  the  table.  The  merchant 
pushed  back  the  chair.  The  spectacle  was  dazzling. 
Before  him  lay  a  pile  of  guineas  and  Bank  of  England 
notes,  evidently  amounting  to  many  thousands  of  pounds 
sterling;  and  the  bright  gold  coin  sparkled  in  the 
light  of  the  lamp  swinging  above. 

"  Be  kind  enough  to  inform  me  of  the  exact  amount 
still  due,  Mr.  Atwell/'  said  Canolles.  "  We  may  then 
calculate  the  interest,  and  the  residue  still  owed  you 
may  be  paid." 

The  old  merchant  hesitated,  then  he  smiled. 

"That  is  a  magnificent  sight,"  he  said,  pointing  to 
the  coin  and  bank  notes,  "in  the  eyes  at  least  of  a 
merchant,  necessarily  intent,  you  know,  Captain,  all 
his  life  upon  gain." 

"  I  do  not  believe,"  returned  Canolles,  with  the  same 


180  CANOLLES. 

smile,  "  that  you  have  spent  your  life  with  any  such 
exclusive  object,  Mr.  Atwell.  You  have  the  repute  of 
possessing  a  large  fortune — well,  I  am  perfectly  certain 
that,  to  employ"  the  common  phrase,  'there  is  not  a 
dirty  shilling  in  the  whole/  ? 

Mr.  Atwell  exhibited  unmistakable  gratification  as  he 
listened  to  these  words,  and  said: 

"  That  is  my  proudest  boast,  Captain  ;  and  now,"  he 
smiled,  "  in  return  for  your  line  compliment,  I  shall 
charge  you  no  interest." 

"I  cannot  accept  such  a  renunciation,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  The  present  premium  on  coin  will  prove  a  full 
substitute." 

u  No;  oblige  me  by  computing  the  interest." 

"  Then  it  shall  be  on  the  lowest  terms." 

'With  which  the  merchant  took  a  pen,  made  the  cal- 
culation, and  handed  the  slip  of  paper  containing  it — 
for  he  was  far  too  prudent  and  economical  to  use  a 
whole  sheet — to  Canolles. 

"Ten  thousand  two  hundred  pounds  seven  shillings 
and  sixpence,"  the  partisan  read  aloud. 

"Precisely,  Captain." 

"  You  place  the  rate  of  interest  at  nearly  nothing." 

The  old  merchant  shook  his  head  obstinately. 

"  I  will  not  accept  one  penny  more,"  he  said  ;  "either 
that  or  the  naked  ten  thousand  pounds." 

"  80  be  it,"  said  Canolles;  "  I  see  that  I  cannot  over- 
come you,  my  old  friend." 

lie  proceeded  to  count  out  ten  thousand  two  hun- 
dred pounds  seven  shillings  and  sixpence,  first  ex- 


THE    PAYMENT.  181 

hausting  the  gold,  and  then  continuing  with  the  Bank 
of  England  notes — several  of  the  latter  being  left. 
The  merchant  carefully  placed  the  sum  in  an  old  escri- 
toire, double-locked  it,  returned  to  his  seat,  took  up  a 
legal-looking  document,  and,  affixing  his  signature  to 
it,  handed  it  to  Canolles,  who  wrote  some  lines  upon 
it,  folded  and  sealed  it,  and  then  placed  it  in  his  breast. 

"  That  part  of  my  plan  is  accomplished,"  he  mut- 
tered, rising.  "  Now  to  finish  and  get  away  from 
Virginia." 

"You  will  not  leave  us  to-night,  Captain,"  said  Mr. 
Atwell. 

"  I  must,  my  good  friend ;  I  have  business  which 
demands  my  attention.  But  before  I  go  I  propose  to 
make  you  a  present." 

"  A  present?'7 

Canolles  went  out  of  the  house,  passed  the  two  in- 
distinct figures  on  the  front  steps,  lost  beneath  the 
shadow  of  the  elm,  and,  going  to  his  horse,  tethered 
near,  unstrapped  something  from  the  saddle  and  re- 
turned to  the  apartment. 

"  You  are  a  good  Virginian,  are  you  not,  Mr. 
Atwell?" 

"  I  believe  there  is  no  better  living." 

You  must  have  heard  with  indignation  of  the  out- 
rages committed  by  Col.  Tarleton,  who  marched 
through  Richmond  yesterday  on  his  retreat. 

"  With  bitter  indignation,  Captain." 

"  Would  you  like  to  possess  a  slight  memorial  of  the 
worthy  Colonel,  whose  proceedings,  I  must  say,  I  ap- 
prove of  no  more  than  yourself? " 


182  CANOLLES. 

u  A  memorial  ?  " 

Canolles  unfolded  the  bundle  in  his  hand,  unstrap- 
ped from  his  saddle. 

"  There  is  Col.  Tarleton's  uniform  coat,"  he  said, 
"  no  doubt  his  very  best,  and  reserved  for  gala  occa- 
sions." 

"  Indeed !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Atwell,  gazing  at  the  fine 
garment,  which  was  heavily  decorated,  well-nigh  cov- 
ered, indeed,  with  gold  lace.  "  This  is  really  Tarle- 
ton's coat,  Captain  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Should  you  doubt  it  you  have  only  to  look." 

He  took  from  the  pocket  of  the  coat  a  gold  snuff- 
box, upon  the  lid  of  which  was  cut  the  name  "  Banas- 
tre  Tarleton,"  and  a  paper  which  he  unfolded  arid  held 
up  before  the  merchant., 

"  See,  this  is  a  special  order  signed  by  Lord  Corn- 
wallis  and  addressed  to  Lieut-Col.  Tarleton." 

"  What  a  prize !  Did  you  capture  the  coat,  Cap- 
tain ?  "  exclaimed  the  delighted  merchant. 

"  Yes,  two  days  ago.  I,  too,  have  a  spite  against  the 
Colonel  for  his  cruelties  in  Virginia — in  Virginia,  I 
say,  inasmuch  as  I  do  not  consider  that  I  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  outrages  elsewhere — and  I  attacked 
him  on  his  way  down,  killed  some  of  his  troopers  and 
captured  this  coat  from  his  headquarters." 

"  Indeed,  I  shall  preserve  it,  Captain,  as  a  treasure." 

Canolles  held  out  his  hand,  and  calling,  "  To  horse, 
Walter !  bid  the  fair  Miss  Annie  good-night ! "  went, 
after  shaking  hands  with  the  old  merchant,  toward  the 
door. 

"Captain!  Captain  !  "  the  latter  cried. 


THE    PAYMENT.  183 

Canolles  turned  his  head. 

"  You  have  left  this,"  said  the  merchant,  pointing,  to 
the  bank  notes  lying  on  the  table,  "  at  least  five  hun- 
dred pounds." 

"  I  really  have  no  use  for  it,"  was  the  reply  of  Ca- 
nolles ;  "  put  it  away,  my  old  friend,  to  purchase  a 
wedding  gift  for  little  Miss  Annie  when  she  is  the  bride 
of  Walter  Hayfield,  to  whom  I  owe  my  life." 

With  these  words  Canolles  saluted  the  merchant, 
then  the  young  lady  as  he  passed  her,  and  mounted. 
Walter  followed — a  low  sound,  very  much  resembling 
a  kiss,  issuing  from  the  shadow  of  the  elm  as  he  did 
so — and  then  the  two  horsemen,  who  had  turned  the 
heads  of  their  animals  eastward,  disappeared  in  the 
night. 


184  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IN  WHICH  CANOLLES  INFORMS  WALTER  THAT  HAVING  AC- 
COMPLISHED HIS  AIM  HE  IS  ABOUT  TO  LEAVE  VIRGINIA 
FOREVER. 

It  was  a  bright  starlight  night,  and  the  air  was  per- 
fectly still  as  Canolles  and  Walter  rode  out  of  Rich- 
mond, eastward,  in  the  direction  of  the  Cbickahominy. 

The  partisan  seemed  to  be  lost  in  thought,  and  went 
on  in  silence,  his  rein  lying  upon  his  horse's  neck — his 
chin  resting  on  his  breast.  Walter,  reflecting  the 
mood  of  his  chief,  rode  beside  him  without  speaking, 
and  they  went  on  thus  for  half  an  hour  over  the  sandy 
road,  which  gave  back  no  sound — two  phantom  horse- 
men, one  would  have  said,  moving  to  some  rendezvous 
in  the  shades  of  the  White  Oak  Swamp,  which  they 
were  approaching.  A  yellow  light  in  the  east,  just 
touching  the  summits  of  the  pines,  indicated  that  the 
moon  would  soon  rise  toward  her  noon,  and  no  sound 
whatever  disturbed  the  stillness  but  the  faint  complaint 
of  the  whippoorwill. 

At -length  Canolles  raised  his  head,  and  turning  to 
his  companion  said  in  the  quiet  tone  habitual  with  him  : 

"  Walter,  you  were  talking  to-night  with  your  friend 
Miss  Annie,  were  you  not  ?  " 

The  blush  on  the  boy's  face  was  plain  in  the  star- 
light. 

"Yes,  Captain." 


CANOLLES    ABOUT    TO    LEAVE   VIRGINIA.  185 

"  A  charming  little  lady;  let  me  compliment  you  on 
your  choice." 

Walter  blushed  more  violently  than  before,  but  made 
no  reply. 

"  Your  affairs  are  no  secret  from  me/'  continued 
Canolles,  how  in  a  tone  of  unwonted  softness,  "  and 
the  proof  is  that  Mr.  Atwell  and  myself  discussed  them 
in  our  interview  this  evening.'7 

"  You  and  Mr.  Atwell,  Captain?" 

"Yes — why  not?  Is  there  anything  so  strange  in 
the  fact?  and  can  you  suppose  me  indifferent  to  the 
welfare  of  one  who  saved  my  life  at  the  risk  of  his 
own,  as  you  did  at  Petersburg  ? " 

"  Oh,  that  was  nothing,  Captain.  If  there  had  been 
a  thousand  times  more  risk  it  would  have  been  my 
place  to  run  it,  after  all  your  kindness." 

"  Thanks,  Walter  !  The  kind  feeling  you  speak  of 
was  in  response  to  your  own  personal  regard  for  me. 
The  fact  remains  that  but  for  you  I  should  not  be  rid- 
ing here  to-night,  but  sleeping  in  the  Blandford  ceme- 
tery, or  near  it.  Let  us  leave  that  and  come  to  business. 
Mr.  Atwell  consents  to  your  union  with  his  daughter, 
and  designs  to  make  you  his  partner  first,  then  his 
successor." 

Walter  thrilled  with  delight,  and  seemed  too  much 
overcome  to  speak. 

"  All  was  arranged  to-night,  after  Mr.  Atwell  had 
ascertained  from  me  such  particulars  relating  to  your- 
self as  a  prudent  father  has  the  right  to  know  where 
there  is  a  question  of  bestowing  a  daughter's  hand 
upon  a  suitor." 


186  CANOLLES. 

"Oh!  thank  you!  thank  you,  Captain!  You  say 
enough  to  make  me  understand  that  it  is  to  you  that  I 
arn  indebted  for  my  happiness  ! " 

"  This  union  will  then  make  you  happy,  will  it, 
Walter?7'  said  Canollesin  the  tone  of  a  father,  address- 
ing a  son  whom  he  loves. 

"Happier  than  I  can  tell  you,  Captain;  for — why 
should  I  not  say  it  ? — for  I  love  Annie  better  than  my 
life  ! " 

"  That  is  not  a  very  strong  expression  in  your  case, 
Walter,"  was  the  partisan's  smiling  response.  "  I  have 
seen  you  risk  your  life  so  bravely  that  you  must  use 
some  other  phrase." 

"  And  Mr.  Atwell  really  consents  ?" 

"  Yes,  indeed.  So  you  see  your  partisan  career  will 
soon  end,  and  my  young  hawk  will  be  transformed  into 
a  quiet  domestic  bird,  with  a  dame  partlet,  and  perhaps 
a  brood  of  young  chickens  to  look  after." 

Walter  colored,  looking  both  delighted  and  sad. 

"  There  is  only  one  thing,"  he  said,  "  to  trouble  me." 

"What  is  that?" 

"I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  leaving  you,  Captain." 

Canolles  shook  his  head. 

"  You  could  scarcely  go  with  me,  where  I  am  going." 

"  Where  are  you  going?" 

"  I  shall  soon  disband  the  Rough  Riders  and  leave 
Virginia." 

"  Leave  Virginia  ? " 

"  Forever." 

Walter  discerned  in  the  tone  of  this  single  word  the 
deepest  sadness,  and  exclaimed  : 


CANOLLES    ABOUT    TO    LEAVE    VIRGINIA.  187 

"  Leave  Virginia — and  forever !  Something  troubles 
you,  Captain  !  What  is  it  ? " 

Canolles  did  not  reply. 

"  And  disband  the  men — not  one  of  whom  but  would 
die  for  you,  rough  fellows  as  they  are?" 

"  Still  we  must  part.  My  end  is  accomplished.  I 
should  have  disbanded  them  before  this  time — soon 
after  the  attack  on  the  British  convoy  below  Petersburg 
— but  for  one  thing — I  mean  the  outrages  of  Col. 
Tarleton.  I  wished  to  take  a  little  private  vengeance 
on  that  gentleman  before  I  went." 

Canolles  paused,  then  went  on  : 

"Listen,  Walter/'  he  said.  "  There  are  some  things 
connected  with  my  life  which  I  have  not  spoken  of 
even  to  one  to  whom  I  am  as  much  attached  as  I  am  to 
you,  nor  can  I  speak  of  them  now.  Every  man  has  at 
some  time  some  peculiar  object  in  view,  toward  which 
he  is  impelled  by  peculiar  considerations  or  feelings; 
and  such  an  object  has  decided  my  own  career.  As  I 
have  informed  you,  my  aim  is  now  fully  reached; 
nothing  detains  me  in  Virginia,  my  first  and  last  love — 
she  will  soon  be  freed  from  her  invaders,  for  the  war 
is  near  its  end — and  I  shall  go." 

"  You  do  not  go  cheerfully,"  was  the  boy's  low  re- 
ply ;  "  your  voice  is  so  sorrowful.  Tell  me  what  trou- 
bles you,  Captain  ! — is  it — is  it — " 

The  boy  stopped. 

"  Finish  your  sentence,  Walter." 

"  You  will  not  be  angry  ! " 

"  Have  I  ever  been  angry  with  you?  " 

"  I  scarce  ever  saw  you  angry  with  anybody." 


188  CANOLLES. 

"  Then  speak.     You  would  ask  me —  " 

"If  your  trouble  is  connected  with — with — the  young 
lady  I  gave  that  paper  to — Miss  Fanny  Talbot  ?" 

Canolles,  turning  his  head  a  little  from  the  boy, 
made  no  reply. 

"  For  if  you  think,"  exclaimed  Walter  impulsively, 
"  that — that — she  is  not  a  friend — more  than  a  friend 
to  you — you  are  greatly,  very  greatly  mistaken." 

"  Mistaken  !  Greatly  mistaken  !  Your  meaning, 
Walter?" 

"  She  loves  you  ! — loves  you  with  her  whole  heart, 
Captain!" 

Canolles  turned  a  little  pale,  and  replied : 

"  What  a  fancy ! — unless  you  mean  that  she  has  a 
friend's  regard  for  me — no  more." 

"  Remember  her  brave  ride  ! " 

"  That  is  a  great  deal — and  nothing.  I  should  have 
expected  such  a  thing  from  her,  and  was  not  surprised. 
But '  more  than  a  friend,'  do  you  say?  That  is  absurd." 

"  It  is  true,  Captain,  and  if  you  will  listen,  I  will  tell 
you  why  I  know  what  I  say  is  true." 

Walter  proceeded  to  inform  Canolles  of  his  inter- 
view with  Fanny  on  the  evening  when  he  delivered 
the  paper,  repeating  her  expressions  and  describing  her 
emotion.  Canolles  listened,  with  the  same  slight  pal- 
lor, but  said  nothing  until  Walter  terminated  his  nar- 
rative. Then  he  slowly  shook  his  head  and  replied: 

"All  that  is  mere  fancy,  Walter;  and  now  let  us 
end  this  talk,  which  can  lead  to  nothing.  Your  un- 
founded surmise,  even  if  true,  could  have  no  effect  in 
inducing  me  to  remain  in  Virginia.  In  a  few  days  I 


CANOLLES    ABOUT   TO    LEAVE   VIRGINIA.  189 

shall  leave  the  country.  The  enemy  are  retiring  from 
Virginia,  and  I  have  no  longer  any  business  here. 
Perhaps  I  shall  strike  one  more  blow  at  the  excellent 
Col.  Tarleton.  We  know  each  other  personally,  as  we 
were  face  to  face  when  I  attacked  him  above  Richmond 
and  drove  him  half-dressed  from  his  tent.  I  confess  I 
should  like  to  signalize  my  departure  from  Virginia  by 
either  capturing  him  or  making  him  feel  the  weight  of 
my  hand  before  I  go.  I  may  have  the  opportunity, 
since  he  is  not  far  off  from  us  now." 

alle  is  on  this  side  of  the  Chickahominy,  Captain," 
exclaimed  Walter  with  ardor,  and  his  young  blood 
suddenly  excited  by  the  prospect  of  an  attack. 

"Good  !  then  we'll  look  him  up,  Walter;  but  first  I 
must " 

"Halt!"  exclaimed  a  voice  from  the  front;  "who 
goes  there?" 

"Friends,"  replied  Canolles;  "and  as  I  recognize 
your  voice,  Harry,  it  is  unnecessary  that  I  should  halt." 

"Hartley!"  exclaimed  the  voice. 

"  In  person,"  returned  Canolles,  continuing  to  ad- 
vance, followed  by  Walter. 

Fifty  yards  in  advance  a  horseman  was  posted  in  the 
road,  with  a  detachment  of  mounted  men  near. 

"You,  Hartley?"  said  the  dusky  horseman.  "What 
good  fortune !  I  wished  of  all  things  to  see  you  to- 
night ! " 

And  spurring  forward  the  young  lieutenant  grasped 
the  hand  of  Canolles,  whom  he  seemed  almost  ready  to 
clasp  in  his  arms. 


190  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CANOLLES    AND    HARRY   CARTARET. 

Walter  Hayfield  had  checked  his  horse  a  few  paces 
distant  from  the  two  horsemen,  and  now  heard  them 
exchange  a  few  words  which  he  could  not  distinguish. 
Then  Harry  Cartaret  turned  his  horse,  rode  back  to 
his  company,  gave  an  order  to  one  of  his  officers,  and 
then  again  joined  Canolles. 

"  Wait  here  for  me,  Walter,"  said  the  latter  to  his 
companion,  "I  wish  to  say  a  few  words  to  Lieut.  Car- 
taret— then  we  will  ride  on." 

The  two  men  turned  into  a  field,  where  a  group  of 
seven  pine  trees  rose  like  dusky  phantoms  in  the  moon- 
light, which  now  began  to  glimmer  above  the  trees, 
and  halting  beneath  the  pines,  dismounted. 

"  You  say  you  wished  to  see  me  to-night,  Harry," 
said  Canolles.  "Well,  that  is  curious,  as  I  was  in  pur- 
suit of  you  when  you  halted  me." 

U0h!  yes!  yes,  Hartley!  My  dear  Hartley!"  ex- 
claimed the  young  man.  "  I  wished — longed,  I  should 
say — to  see  you,  and  tell  you  how  much  I  love  you — 
how  noble  you  are  in  my  eyes." 

Canolles  fixed  a  penetrating  glance  upon  his  com- 
panion— a  glance  full  of  surprise  and  inquiry. 

"Ah!"  he  said  quietly,  "you  have  a  warm  heart, 
Harry.  It  is  unnecessary  to  tell  me  that,  or  let  me  see 
it.  I  know  very  well  that  you  love  me — marauder  as  I 
am;  and  you  know  my  affection  for  you  is  as  great." 


CANOLLES    AND    HARRY   CARTARET.  191 

"You  are  not  a  marauder!  You  are  a  Chevalier 
Bayard! — a  thousand  times  nobler  than  the  noblest 
human  being  I  have  ever  met ! " 

Canolles  looked  at  his  companion  in  the  same  sur- 
prised manner. 

"  Thank  you,  Harry,"  he  said.  "  I  do  not  recognize 
your  good  sense,  but  I  do  your  warm  heart." 

"  My  good  sense  more  than  all." 

"What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  I  know  you  at  last,  Hartley  ! " 

"'At  last?" 

"  All  your  grand  self-sacrificing  affection  for  me — an 
affection  I  can  never  repay  while  I  live,  but  will  never 
consent  to  profit  by ! " 

Canolles  was  plainly  in  a  maze,  and  his  penetrating 
eyes  demanded  an  explanation. 

"  So  you  wished  to  see  me  to-night.  For  what  pur- 
pose ?"  he  said. 

"  To  tell  you  that  I  have  come  into  possession  of 
something  belonging  to  you,  which  should  at  least  be 
returned  to  you." 

"What  is  that,  Harry?" 

"  This  paper." 

He  put  his  hand  into  his  breast  and  drew  out  a  small 
package. 

"  Before  returning  it,  let  me  tell  you  how  I  came 
into  possession  of  it.  When  the  enemy  returned  from 
Petersburg  I  was  detached  by  Gen.  Lafayette  to  cross 
the  Appomattox  and  harass  their  rear.  I  did  so,  fol- 
lowing them  down  toward  City  Point,  and  chancing  to 
stop  at  the  small  house  of  a  plain  countryman  by  the 


192  CANOLLES. 

roadside,  in  order  to  gain  information,  observed  an 
open  paper  lying  upon  his  table." 

"Ah!"  said  Canolles,  "some  order  accidentally 
dropped  by  the  enemy?" 

"  That  was  my  conjecture,  and  I  seized  the  paper, 
asking  the  countryman  where  he  had  obtained  it,  or  if 
the  enemy  had  left  it.  He  replied  that  he  had  found 
it  lying  in  a  wood  road  near — a  sort  of  bridle  path 
leading  by  a  short  cut  toward  Petersburg — and  think- 
ing it  might  prove  of  some  value  brought  it  home." 

"Naturally;  but  he  ascertained  speedily  what  the 
paper  contained  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.     He  could  not  read." 

"  Oh  !  I  see.  But  as  you,  my  dear  Harry,  are  some- 
what more  accomplished,  you  proceeded  to  decipher 
the  document." 

"Yes,"  said  Harry,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  And  this  mysterious  document but,  one  thing 

puzzles  me." 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  Why  you  should  have  begun  by  saying  that  you 
wished  to  return  this  paper  to  me,  as  my  property." 

"  To  you — or  another  person." 

"  Another  person  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"What  person?  and  what  can  be  your  meaning, 
dear  Harry  ?  You  puzzle  me  enormously.  What 
under  Heaven  have  I  to  do  with  a  paper  picked  up  by 
chance  on  the  roadside  between  Petersburg  and  City 
Point?" 

Harry  Cartaret  had  unfolded  the  paper  and  now  held 


CANOLLES    AND    HARRY   CARTARET.  193 

it  out  toward  Canolles,  who  took  it  and  looked  keenly 
•at  it. 

The  moon  had  just  risen  above  the  trees  and  fell 
with  a  flood  of  light  upon  the  paper.  It  was  that 
which  Canolles  had  directed  Walter  to  deliver  to  Fanny 
Talbot,  and  which  she  had  dropped  from  her  bosom  on 
her  night  ride  to  Petersburg. 
13 


194  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    COMMISSION. 

Canolles  had  scarcely  read  three  lines  of  the  paper 
in  his  own  handwriting,  when  the  hand  holding  it  fell 
at  his  side  and  his  head  slowly  drooped  until  it  rested 
upon  his  breast.  He  was  leaning  against  the  trunk  of 
one  of  the  seven  pines,  and  the  moonlight  fell  clearly 
upon  both  his  own  figure  and  that  of  Harry  Cartaret. 

The  resemblance  between  the  two  was  more  extra- 
ordinary than  ever.  Canolles  seemed  to  have  lost  some- 
thing of  the  brown,  almost  swarthy  tint  of  his  face — 
possibly  from  his  close  confinement  in  Petersburg — and 
Harry  was  burned  darker  by  the  summer  sun.  Their 
resemblance  to  each  other  was  thus  almost  perfect,  and 
but  for  their  different  uniforms  they  would  scarcely 
have  been  recognized  one  from  the  other. 

Canolles,  as  we  have  said,  had  let  the  hand  holding 
the  paper  fall  at  his  side,  and  for  some  moments  his 
eyes  remained  fixed  upon  the  ground.  He  then  raised 
his  head  and  looked  at  his  companion. 

"  Did  you  read  this,  Harry  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  was  the  low  reply. 

"All?" 

"Yes." 

"  I  am  sorry/'  was  the  grave  reply  of  Canolles. 

"  I  know  I  had  no  right  to  do  so,"  said  the  young 
man,  with  a  quick  color  in  his  cheeks.  UI  am  not 


THE    COMMISSION.  195 

given  to  reading  papers  not  addressed  to  myself;  but 
remember,  Hartley,  how  I  found  this — that  I  thought 
it  would  pr.ove  an  army  order,  dropped  by  the  enemy. 
I  therefore  looked  at  it,  read  ten  lines,  read  on,  could 
not  cease  reading,  and  did  not  stop  until  I  had  come  to 
the  last  line  and  your  signature.  Blame  me  if  you 
will — say  that  it  was  a  want  of  good  breeding — yes ! — 
but  you  cannot  make  me  regret  that  I  read  that  paper, 
for  it  has  shown  me  who  is  the  noblest  man  in  this 
world,  and  made  me  love  him  more  even  than  I  did 
before  ! " 

He  spoke  impulsively,  and  tears  came  to  his  eyes, 

Canolles  looked  at  him  with  the  same  soft  glance — 
even  a  softer  one  than  that  bestowed  upon  "Walter  Hay- 
field.  A  sigh  escaped  him  and  he  said : 

"It  is  truly  unfortunate  that  you  ever  found  this 
paper,  which.  I  surely  never  intended  you  to  see.  How 
it  was  lost  by — the  person  to  whom  it  is  addressed — 
unless  dropped  on  her  ride — I  cannot  divine.  But  that 
inquiry  is  now  idle.  The  mischief  is  done.  The  ulti- 
mate result,  however,  will  be  the  same." 

"No!"  exclaimed  Harry  Cartaret,  "it  must  not  be 
the  same  !  I  will  never  consent ! " 

•He  rested  one  arm  on  the  shoulder  of  Canolles,  then 
embracing  him,  as  it  were,  and  looking  at  him  with 
moist  eyes  through  which  shone  a  smile,  said : 

"Noblesse  oblige,  Hartley!  It  is  impossible  for  one 
of  the  Cartarets'to  act  otherwise  than  as  a  Cartaret! 
People  say  I  am  not  very  brilliant  in  intellect,  I  believe. 
At  least  I  know  what  is  imposed  upon  me  by  the  name 
I  bear ! " 


10()  CANOLLES. 

"No  one  acquainted  with  you  ever  doubted  that, 
Harry.  Men  carry  their  natures  on  their  faces.  I  for 
one  know  an  honest  man  or  a  scoundrel  as  soon  as  I 
see  him.  The  rascal's  face  says,  'lam  a  rascal!'  the 
gentleman's,  *  I  am  a  gentleman  ! '  To  cease  my  moral- 
izing. You  have  no  choice  here.  It  is  I  who  impose 
your  action  upon  you." 

"Never,  never/' 

"  In  the  more  important  particulars  it  is  already 
imposed." 

"The  more  important?  Yes!  I  understand — and  I 
have  no  reply  to  make  to  that.  Yes,  there  I  am  fet- 
tered ;  as  to  the  other — I  swear,  Hartley,  that  rather 
than " 

"  S  wear  not  at  all ! "  was  the  reply  of  Canolles,  with 
a  smile  almost  tender  on  his  lips.  "Let  the  future 
decide  your  action,  Harry,  be  it  what  it  may — and  now 
let  us  forget  all  this." 

"But " 

"Let  us  say  no  more  about  it,  Harry.  You  love  me 
and  I  love  you.  We  go  different  ways,  but  I  think  we 
shall  love  each  other  to  the  end.  Not  another  word 
now — let  the  American  lieutenant  of  cavalry  and  the 
Virginia  marauder  part  in  peace  !  " 

"You  are  no  longer  a  marauder — if  you  ever  were 
one  !"  was  the  reply  of  the  young  man,  who  seemed  to 
feel  the  uselessness  of  further  remonstrance,  at  least 
for  the  present,  on  the  subject  of  discussion. 

"  I  am  not  a  marauder,  do  you  say,  Harry  ?" 

The  young  man  drew  a  second  paper  from  his  pocket 
and  presented  it  to  Canolles. 


THE    COMMISSION.  197 

"What's  that?3'  he  asked. 

"Your  commission  as  captain  of  Partisan  Rangers, 
from  the  Governor  of  Virginia." 

"  Ah !  you  have  put  yourself  to  the  trouble  of  pro- 
curing that?" 

"Yes,  your  non-commissioned  fighting  has  already 
exposed  you  to  imminent  danger  of  death,  Hartley,  and 
might  again  without  this  paper.  I  applied  to  Governor 
Jefferson  long  ago  for  this  commission,  but  he  informed 
me  that  he  had  scruples  against  making  out  such  a 
commission,  unless  it  was  proposed  to  have  it  approved 
and  countersigned  by  the  Continental  authorities." 

"And  you  rightly  supposed  that  I  would  accept  no 
such  commission  ! "  exclaimed  Canolles. 

"I  knew  you  would  not!  " 

"  I  should  not  have  accepted  it  if  his  Excellency 
Governor  Jefferson  had  begged  me  to  do  so  on  his 
knees!" 

Henry  Cartaret  sighed,  as  though  the  reply  of  his 
companion  caused  him  deep  regret;  but  it  was  equally 
plain  that  he  knew  all  argument  would  be  thrown 
away. 

"I  therefore  informed  Mr.  Jefferson,"  he  continued, 
"  that  I  feared  there  were  obstacles  in  the  way  of  your 
acceptance  of  the  commission  if  granting  it  were 
coupled  with  the  conditions  mentioned  by  him,  and  no 
longer  pressed  the  application." 

"Right!    But  here  is  the  paper." 

"  If  you  look  at  it  you  will  perceive  that  it  bears  the 
signature  of,  not  Mr.  Jefferson,  but  of  Thomas  Nelson, 


198  CANOLLES. 

Governor  of  Virginia — a  brave  man,  and  a  noble  title, 
which,  I  predict,  he  will  render  nobler." 

"I  know  him  very  well,  and  I  assent  to  your  predic- 
tion." 

"  He  has  been  Governor,  as  you  are  aware,  since  the 
first  of  June,  and  no  sooner  had  I  renewed  my  applica- 
tion than  Gov.  Nelson  exclaimed :  '  Commission  him  ! 
Yes,  I  will  commission  him,  and  without  if  or  but  or 
asking  leave  of  anything !  I  am  Governor  of  Virginia, 
and  I  commission  a  Virginian  to  fight  the  battles  of 
Virginia/  He  then  had  the  commission  made  out, 
signed  it,  delivered  it  to  me — and  here  it  is." 

Canolles  took  the  paper,  placed  it  in  his  breast,  and 
said : 

"I  take  this  paper  as  a  Virginian  ready  to  fight  the 
battles  of  Virginia.  You  see  I  use  the  words  of  that 
brave  soldier  and  statesman.  The  war  is  near  its  end 
— I  may  strike  again  only  once,  but  I  will  strike  with 
this  paper  on  my  person  beside  the  Virginia  flag  I 
carry." 

With  these  words  Canolles  mounted  his  horse ;  his 
companion  imitated  him,  and  they  rode  back  to  the 
highway,  where,  at  a  sign  from  the  partisan,  Walter 
joined  them — he  and  Harry  exchanging  a  grasp  of  the 
hand,  evidently  as  old  friends. 

"  And  now,  Harry,  pass  me  through  your  picket — I 
must  go  below,"  said  Canolles,  pointing  toward  James 
River. 

Harry  Cartaret  did  so,  the  dusky  horsemen  dividing 
to  allow  them  to  pass,  and  fifty  yards  further  they 
parted  with  a  close  grasp  of  the  hand. 


THE    COMMISSION.  199 

"  I  had  forgotten,"  said  Canolles,  turning*  back. 

"Forgotten?" 

"  Keep  this  paper  for  me  in  safety,  for  the  present, 
Harry." 

He  gave  him  the  sealed  document  which  he  had  re- 
ceived from  Mr.  Atwell  in  return  for  the  ten  thousand 
pounds. 

"  What  is  the  paper?"  asked  the  young  lieutenant. 

"You  shall  read  and  see,"  was  the  reply  of  Canolles, 
"only  I  attach  a  single  condition  to  your  doing  so." 

"What  condition?" 

"  That  you  shall  only  do  so  one  month  from  this 
time.  If  I  am  dead  in  the  meanwhile  it  will  be  differ- 
ent. You  may  then  read  the  paper  at  once." 

The  two  men  exchanged  another  pressure  of  the 
hand  and  rode  in  opposite  directions,  Canolles  and 
Walter  penetrating  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  thicket, 
which  soon  swallowed  the  two  horsemen  in  its  moon- 
lit depths. 


200  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A   RECONNOISSANCE   RECONNOITERED. 

The  partisan  and  his  companion  had  ridden  a  mile 
or  two,  and  were  pursuing  a  road  which  gradually 
obliqued  in  a  southern  direction — it  was  what  is  called 
to-day  the  "  Charles  City  Road " — when  they  all  at 
once  became  aware  that  other  persons  beside  themselves 
were  abroad. 

A  muffled  noise  of  hoofs  was  heard  in  front,  and 
Canolles  checked  his  horse  and  listened. 

The  sound  did  not  grow  louder — indeed,  it  gradually 
became  fainter.  There  was  no  doubt  that  the  horse- 
men— apparently  a  considerable  party — were  moving 
in  the  same  direction  as  the  partisan  and  Walter. 

"  Well,  I  think  some  of  our  friends  of  the  other  fac- 
tion are  on  an  expedition  to-night/'  said  Canolles; 
"  in  all  probability  on  a  reconnoissance.  The  right 
flank  is  the  flank  to  guard — that  accounts  for  Harry's 
being  where  we  found  him — and  these  gentlemen  are 
riding  toward  James  River,  either  to  plunder  the  farms 
of  horses  or  find  if  there  is  any  American  force  in  this 
direction." 

He  dismounted,  and  stooping  down  examined  the 
road,  leading  his  horse  by  the  bridle  and  glancing 
keenly  from  side  to  side. 

"  A  squadron  at  least/'  he  said  at  length,  "  the  hoof- 
marks  amount  to  that.  What  do  you  say,  Walter?" 


A    RECONNOISSANCE    RECONNOITERED.  201 

"I  think  about  fifty,  Captain. " 

"My  own  estimate.  Well,  let  us  try  and  find  out 
who  they  are,  and  discover  what  they  are  after." 

Canolles  mounted,  touched  his  horse  with  his  spur 
and  set  forward  at  a  gallop,  knowing  well  that  the 
noise  made  on  the  march  by  fifty  men — the  clash  of 
sabres  against  stirrups,  and  the  smiting  of  hoofs — 
would  completely  drown  the  sound  of  his  own  and 
Walter's  gallop  on  the  sandy  road. 

They  went  on  thus  for  about  half  a  mile,  the  noise 
growing  gradually  louder;  and  then  a  dusky  mass  was 
seen  in  front  moving  slowly,  evidently  at  a  walk,  over 
the  white  road  against  which  the  figures  were  clearly 
defined  in  the  moonlight. 

When  he  was  within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  party 
Canolles  stopped  and  seemed  to  reflect. 

"  We  might  join  the  column  as  stragglers,  Walter," 
he  said.  "  Nobody  would  be  the  wiser  as  the  road  is 
so  narrow  yonder  that  the  shade  of  the  pines  makes  all 
dark — but  that  does  not  answer  my  purpose." 

"  Your  purpose,  Captain  ?" 

"  I  am  anxious  to  know  who  these  people  are,  where 
they  are  going,  and  what  their  object  is." 

"Yes,  Captain." 

"  Well,  joining  the  column  as  one  of  them  would 
not  tell  me  much,  I  could  ask  no  questions,  and  pri- 
vate soldiers  know  nothing.  I  will  go  around." 

"Around?" 

"  To  the  front,  and  try  to  find  out  what  I  wish  to 
know.  You  ought  to  be  enough  of  a  partisan,  Wal- 
ter," he  added,  observing  a  puzzled  expression  on  the 


202  CANOLLES. 

countenance  of  the  boy,  "  to  understand  what  plan  I 
mean  to  pursue." 

"  I  am  ashamed  to  say  I  do  not,  Captain/' 

"  Well,  come  with  me,  my  boy,  and  take  a  little 
lesson — it  may  be  useful  to  you." 

With  these  words  Canolles  wheeled  to  the  left,  and 
penetrated  the  morass  for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 
He  then  turned  to  the  right  again,  made  his  way  with 
the  skill  of  an  experienced  night  rider  through  the 
almost  impenetrable  thickets,  and  gradually  obliquing 
toward  the  road  over  which  the  column -was  passing, 
soon  came  within  sound  of  voices. 

"  Listen/'  he  said  to  Walter,  taking  no  pains  to  sup- 
press the  tones  of  his  voice. 

"  Unless  I  am  mistaken  we  are  opposite  the  head  of 
the  column,  and  the  voices  we  hear  are  those  of  the 
officers  commanding,  and  riding  in  front." 

"  Yes,  Captain  !  "  exclaimed  Walter,  now  highly  ex- 
cited, and  even  delighted. 

•"If  we  can  manage  to  keep  near  enough  to  these 
worthies,  we  may,  perhaps,  hear  what  they  have  to  say, 
and  discover  who  they  are,  too." 

As  Canolles  spoke,  the  moon,  which  had  been  ob- 
scured for  some  moments  by  a  cloud,  sailed  out  in  full 
majesty  above  the  fringe  of  the  pines,  and  the  bright 
light  fell  upon  two  British  officers,  whose  figures  were 
distinctly  visible  to  Canolles  and  Walter  through  an 
opening  in  the  thicket. 

One  of  these  officers  was  the  tall,  stiff,  commanding, 
white-mustache,  ruddy-faced  Col.  Ferrers.  The  other, 
who  rode  on  his  left,  and  was  nearer  to  the  partisans, 


A    RECONNOISSANCE    RECONNOITERED.  203 

was  a  young  man  apparently  from  twenty-five  to  twen- 
ty-eight, short  of  stature,  swarthy,  with  a  thick-set  per- 
son and  muscular  limbs,  and  wore  the  uniform  of  a 
Lieutenant-Colonel  of  cavalry  of  the  British  army. 

"  That  is  my  especial  personal  friend,  Col.  Tarleton," 
said  Canolles.  "  Lord  Ferrers  you  know,  Walter. 
But  where  are  they  going  ?  " 

Despite  every  effort  made  by  the  partisan  he  could 
not  hear  what  the  two  officers  were  saying  to  each 
other — which,  indeed,  amounted  to  very  little.  They 
spoke  only  at  intervals,  and  then  in  low  tones. 

Canolles  checked  his  horse,  making  a  sign  to  Walter. 

"  The  undergrowth  is  too  thick  to  go  nearer,"  he 
said,  quietly,  "  we  should  be  seen,  and  shot  or  cap- 
tured if  we  tried  to  force  our  way  through  the  thicket, 
as  the  noise  would  be  heard.  Now,  I  do  not  wish 
either  to  be  killed  or  captured  at  present." 

"  NOT  I,  Captain !  and  for  the  same  reason  you  do 
not." 

"  What  reason  ?  " 

"  You  are  going  to  attack  them!  " 

"  I  attack  them  ? "  said  Canolles,  laughing.  "  Why, 
they  are  two  or  three  to  one,  if  all  my  men  were  even 
here." 

"Which  makes  it  all  the  more  agreeable  to  you, 
Captain.  Don't  try  to  deceive  me  as  to  your  inten- 
tions !  " 

Canolles  smiled  this  time,  and  said: 

"  Well,  let  us  halt  here  and  count  them,  if  possible, 
as  they  pass.  There  is  the  head  of  the  column,  fifty 
paces  behind  the  officers.  Make  your  own  count, 


204  CANOLLES. 

Walter,  and  I  will  make  mine,  and  then  we  will  com- 
pare them." 

Holding  his  rein  carelessly  in  his  left  hand,  and  rais- 
ing his  right  hand  with  the  forefinger  extended,  Ca- 
nolles  moved  the  finger  after  the  fashion  of  a  shepherd 
counting  his  sheep,  and  Walter  imitated  him.  When 
the  last  man  had  defiled  by,  the  partisan  turned  his 
head  and  said : 

"  Well,  how  many,  Walter?  " 

"  Fifty-two,  Captain." 

"  Good." 

"  What  was  your  count  ?  " 

"Fifty-two." 

Having  uttered  these  words  Canolles  made  his  com- 
panion a  sign,  wheeled  to  the  left,  and  apparently  dis- 
missing from  his  mind  all  further  interest  in  the  recon- 
noitering  party,  penetrated  the  densest  part  of  the 
Swamp. 

Anybody,  however,  who  had  been  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  British  bivouac  toward  dawn,  and  followed  them 
afterwards  as  they  continued  their  march  southward 
about  sunrise,  would  have  been  aware,  from  slight 
noises  in  the  Swamp,  that  some  person  or  persons, 
moving  stealthily,  had  the  British  squadron  in  view, 
and  were  tracking  it  step  by  step  as  it  advanced. 


A    PROFANE    ACQUAINTANCE.  205 


CHAPTER  X. 

IN  WHICH  A  PROFANE   ACQUAINTANCE    OF    THE  READER  RE- 
APPEARS UPON  THE  SCENE. 

The  events  just  related  occurred,  as  the  reader  has 
been  informed,  on  the  night  preceding  that  on  which 
Miss  Fanny  Talbot  and  Miss  Lucy  Maurice  held  the 
interview  at  the  picturesque  "  Moss  Rock/'  in  the 
Chatsworth  grounds,  an  interview  which  was  inter- 
rupted in  the  manner  we  have  described — that  is  to 
say,  by  the  tramp  of  approaching  horsemen,  and  then 
the  appearance  of  a  body  of  British  troopers  swarming 
on  the  grassy  lawn. 

The  two  young  ladies,  indulging  a  natural  feminine 
terror,  were  running  to  seek  shelter  in  the  house,  when 
one  of  two  officers  riding  in  front  of  the  column — a 
short,  swarthy  and  thick-set  young  man  in  a  colonel's 
uniform — suddenly  struck  spur  to  his  horse,  crying  : 

"  Halt ! " 

The  horse  started  forward  under  the  spur,  but  all  at 
once  was  arrested  and  rose  up  on  his  haunches. 

The  officer,  whose  eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  young 
ladies,  turned  his  head  furiously  to  ascertain  the  mean- 
ing of  this  incident. 

It  was  occasioned  by  a  very  simple  circumstance. 

The  white-mustached  Colonel  Ferrers  —  our  old 
acquaintance  of  Petersburg — who  rode  beside  him, 


206  CANOLLES. 

had  caught  his  bridle,  and  abruptly  arrested  the  further 
progress  of  the  animal. 

The  young  officer  gave  way  to  rage. 

"  Your  meaning,  Lord  Ferrers ! "  he  exclaimed, 
knitting  his  brow  and  scowling  at  Ferrers,  who  quietly 
released  his  hold  upon  the  bridle  ;  "  your  meaning  in 
this  very  extraordinary  proceeding  ! " 

"  My  meaning,  eh  ?" 

"Yes,  sir!" 

"  Damme  !  "  was  the  reply  of  Lord  Ferrers,  in  a  gruff 
voice,  indicating  great  indifference  at  his  companion's 
anger;  "  I  mean,  my  worthy  Colonel  Tarleton,  that  I 
am  in  command  here,  and  that  it  is  not  my  habit  to 
ride  over  the  fair  sex,  or  allow  them  to  be  ridden  over 
— damme  !  " 

Tarleton — for  the  young  officer  was  that  well-known 
personage — looked  furious,  but  evidently  knew  his 
companion  too  well  to  reply.  He  saluted  stiffly,  rein- 
ing in  his  horse,  and  Lord  Ferrers  advanced  in  front 
of  him,  bowing  to  the  trembling  girls  as  he  did  so. 

"  Good  evening,  young  ladies,"  he  said  gruffly,  "  will 
you  be  good  enough  to  inform  me  what  the  name  of 
this  house  is,  as  all  the  houses  in  Virginia  have  names, 
I'm  told,  and  this  is  a  devilish  tine  one — beg  pardon  !  " 

"  Chatsworth,  sir,7'  said  Fanny,  who  had  recovered 
from,  her  fright. 

"Chatsworth?  Once  the  residence  of  Mr.  Henry 
Cartaret?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Humph  !  I  thought  it  was  somewhere  in  this  vi- 
cinity. Might  have  known  it  from  the  advice  of  a 


A    PROFANE    ACQUAINTANCE.  207 

certain  gentleman,  that   we  bad  better  move   in  tbis 
direction — a  rascal  here  behind  me — eh,  Tom?'7 

The  rascal  in  question — Lieut.  Ferrers — rode  for- 
ward, saluting  the  young  ladies  as  he  did  so. 

"  So,"  said  Lord  Ferrers,  "  this  is  Chatsworth,  is  it, 
where  you  spent  the  evening  once,  eh  ?  and  the  rest  of 
the  same  night  in  the  American  camp  ?  " 

"  Exactly,  sir,"  wTas  the  laughing  response  of  Lieut. 
Tom  Ferrers,  "and  I  assure  you  I  should  like  to  repeat 
the  evening,  though  not  the  rest  of  the  night." 

"  Very  well — do  as  you  choose ;  but  it's  devilish 
risky,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  I'll  risk  it,  sir." 

"But  not  without  permission  from  Us  belles  chate- 
laines, I  can  tell  you  !  No  forcing  your  society  on 
ladies  while  I'm  about.  I'm  going  to  halt  here  for 
half  an  hour  to  rest  the  horses,  but  no  man  or  officer 
enters  this  house  without  my  permission ;  and  what's 
more,  if  there  is  any  damage  done  to  the  grounds  or 
property,  I'll  arrest  the  officer,  or  mount  the  man  on  a 
wooden  horse  without  stirrups — damme  ! " 

Having  made  this  announcement  in  a  tone  distinctly 
heard  by  everybody,  Lord  Ferrers  turned  to  the  girls, 
saluted  in  the  same  brief  fashion,  and  said  : 

"  Is  it  agreeable  to  you,  young  ladies,  that  I  should 
go  in  and  rest,  with  two  or  three  of  my  officers  ?  If 
unagreeable  to  you,  say  so,  and  there'll  be  an  end 
of  it." 

"  Of  course,  sir,"  was  the  reply  of  Fanny;  and  Lord 
Ferrers,  turning  to  Tom,  said  : 

"  Lieut.  Ferrers,  you  will  march  the  troop  to  that 


208  CANOLLES. 

opening  yonder  in  the  woods  beyond  the  grounds, 
order  the  men  to  dismount,  but  not  to  picket  the  horses, 
and  see  that  no  damage  is  done  to  fences  or  any  other 
property." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  will  hold  you  responsible.  After  seeing  that  my 
orders  are  obeyed,  you  may  leave  your  subordinate  in 
charge  and  come  to  the  house  here,  if  you  fancy.  I 
am  going  in  with  Col.  Tarleton." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Will  you  go  in,  Colonel?" 

Tarleton  rather  stiffly  assented,  and,  leaving  their 
horses  in  charge  of  an  orderly,  while  Lieut.  Tom  Fer- 
rers marched  off  the  men,  the  two  officers  followed  the 
young  ladies  into  the  Chatsworth  house. 


COL.    TARLETON.  209 


CHAPTER  XL 

IN  WHICH  COL.  TARLETON  LAYS  HIS  HAND  UPON  HIS  SWORD. 

It  was  in  the  highest  degree  entertaining  to  observe 
the  effect  produced  by  the  entrance  of  the  stately  old 
Lord  Ferrers  and  the  short  athlete  Col.  Tarleton  in 
their  rich  uniforms  on  the  excellent  Mrs.  Talbot.  That 
aged  lady,  sitting  with  her  knitting  in  her  hands,  and 
her  hair  primly  arranged  under  her  white  cap,  pre- 
sented the  picture  of  astonishment  and  apprehension, 
and  the  helpless  way  in  which  she  looked  from  the 
visitors  to  Fanny  and  Lucy,  and  then  to  the  superb 
Miss  Eleanor  enthroned  in  state  in  her  arm-chair  near 
the  window,  was  comic  in  the  extreme. 

Miss  Eleanor  Talbot  was  far  from  exhibiting  any 
similar  emotion.  On'  the  contrary,  she  returned  the 
admiring  glances  of  bluff  old  Lord  Ferrers  and  the. 
keen  gaze  of  Tarleton  with  perfect  coolness ;  and  was 
indeed — with  her  richly  arranged  hair,  her  red  lips  and 
roses — a  personage  calculated  to  excite  the  admiration 
of  any  one. 

Lord  Ferrers  made  the  bow  of  the  nobleman  he  was, 
and  took  the  seat  to  which  Miss  Eleanor  Talbot 
motioned  him  with  a  careless  movement  of  her  jeweled 
hand — Col.  Tarleton  taking  another. 

"  I  have  the  pleasure,  I  and  Col.  Tarleton,  I  believe," 
said  Col.  Ferrers,  "  of  making  the  acquaintance  of  Mrs. 
Cartaret  and  her  daughters?" 
14 


210  CANOLLES. 

"!N" — n — o,  sir,"  faltered  Mrs.  Talbot;  "we — are  only 
— relations  of  the  late  Mr.  Cartaret. " 

"Ah  !  Well,  madam,  I  have  at  least  the  satisfaction 
of  visiting  relatives  of  that  excellent  gentleman  at  his 
house  of  Chatsworth,  the  name  of  which  I  have  fre- 
quently heard  him  mention.  I  knew  Mr.  Cartaret  very 
well  in  England,  both  when  he  was  a  young  man  at 
Oxford,  and  later.  I  may  even  say  that  I  believe  there 
is.a  distant  connection  between  our  families — certainly 
the  tie  of  friendship  was  strong;  both  my  brother, 
Lord  Ferrers,  now  dead,  and  myself,  were  intimate  and 
cordial  friends  of  Mr.  Cartaret." 

"  Y — es,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Talbot,  gradually  recovering 
her  equanimity  in  some  degree. 

"  It  is  the  unhappy  result  of  war,  madam,"  continued 
Col.  Ferrers,  "to  produce  these  apparent  antagonisms, 
and  bring  a  soldier  often,  as  an  enemy,  to  the  house  of 
his  friend.  I  say  apparent  antagonisms,  for  I  need 
scarcely  assure  you  that  it  is  not  an  enemy  who  enters 
the  house  of  Henry  Cartaret  when  George  Ferrers 
enters  it.  You  will,'  therefore,  I  beg,  ladies,  dismiss 
all  apprehension  of  annoyance,  and  be  at  your  ease.  If 
so  much  as  a  twig  is  broken  here  by  officer  or  man  I 
will  make  him  rue  it,  whatever  be  his  rank." 

A  sound  resembling  a  suppressed  growl  issued  from 
the  lips  of  Col.  Tarleton,  who  had  listened  to  these 
elaborate  assurances  of  the  old  militaire  with  ill-subdued 
disapprobation.  Lord  Ferrers  half  turned  his  head, 
but  as  at  that  moment  Lieut.  Tom  Ferrers  came  in,  he 
took  no  farther  notice  of  the  young  colonel. 

Tom  Ferrers  entered  and  executed  a  low  bow,  the 


COL.    TARLETON.  211 

feather  of  his  cocked  hat  trailing  on  the  floor.  His 
glance  embraced  the  whole  group,  but  suddenly 
remained  fixed  on  the  superb  Miss  Eleanor,  who 
returned  his  salute  with  an  unmistakable  smile  of 
recognition. 

"  I  have  the  great  pleasure  of  renewing  my  acquaint- 
ance with  Mrs.  Talbot  and  the  Misses  Talbot,"  said 
Lieutenant  Tom,  not  looking  in  the  least  at  the  aged 
lady  or  Fanny,  but  continuing  to  gaze  with  unbounded 
admiration  at  Eleanor. 

"  Take  a  seat,  sir,"  said  that  young  lady,  with  a  fasci- 
nating glance,  and  she  made  an  almost  imperceptible 
movement  of  her  hand  toward  a  seat  beside  her,  which 
Lieutenant  Tom.  hastened  to  occupy. 

A  suppressed  chuckle  issued  from  the  lips  of  Lord 
Ferrers,  who  was  sitting  with  his  sword  between  his 
knees,  his  left  hand  grasping  the  weapon,  his  right 
hand  resting  on  his  thigh. 

"  It  seems  to  me,  my  good  sir,"  he  said,  "that  when 
I  give  a  military  order  to  an  officer  of  my  command  I 
am  entitled  to  a  brief  report  from  the  officer  in  ques- 
tion, as  to  whether  my  orders  are  obeyed." 

"Oh! — beg  pardon,  Colonel — the  fact  is — yes,  sir! 
Your  orders  have  been  obeyed." 

"  Devilish  quick  ! "  grunted  the  old  soldier,  with  his 
grim  smile. 

"  I  left  Lieut.  Jones  in  command,  sir,  with  express 
orders." 

"Have  the  goodness  to  repeat  those  orders  for  the 
satisfaction  of  the  ladies." 

"Your  orders,  sir,  were  that  no  depredations  of  any 


212  CANOLLES. 

description  should  be  committed  by  officers  or  men  on 
pain  of  severe  punishment." 

"  Good,  and  I  swear  the  punishment  will  follow,  on 
the  word  of  George  Ferrers.  War  is  war  with  me — it 
is  not  rapine." 

Col.  Tarleton  had  listened  to  this  colloquy  with 
obvious  impatience.  He  seemed  to  be  aware  that  the 
old  miUtaire  was  not  a  person  with  whom  he  could 
venture  far ;  but  carried  away  now  by  his  impatience, 
he  said  stiffly : 

"  It  is  a  pity,  sir,  that  the  American  officers  in  the 
Carolinas  did  not  in  the  last  campaign  participate  in 
your  liberal  views,  and  practice  them  in  reference  to 
the  loyalists  adhering  to  the  cause  of  his  Majesty." 

"I  Lave  nothing  to  do  with  the  American  officers," 
was  the  indifferent  reply.  "  I  take  my  own  precautions 
to  prevent  outrage." 

"  Rather  an  elaborate  precaution  in  an  eilemy's  coun- 
try, if  I  am  permitted  to  express  an  opinion,  sir." 

"  That  is  your  opinion,  eh  ?"  said  Lord  Ferrers,  in  a 
tone  of  mingled  indifference  and  hauteur. 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  if  your  lordship  will  allow  me  to  say 
it,  I  am  somewhat  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  this  extreme 
solicitude  in  reference  to  persons  in  arms  against  his 
Majesty,  or  sympathizing  with  those  in  arms  against 
him."  " 

"  I  will  reply  to  that,"  said  Lord  Ferrers,  gruffly. 
"  In  the  first  place,  this  house  is  or  was  the  property  of 
Henry  Cartarct,  my  friend,  and  a  gentleman  of  the 
highest  character.  In  the  second  place,  it  is  at  present 
occupied  only  by  ladies." 


COL.    TARLETON.  213 

"The  rebel  ladies  are  worse  than  the  rebel  gentle- 
men," said  Col.  Tarleton,  laying  ironical  emphasis  on 
the  word  gentlemen.  "You  will  please,  however, 
allow  me  to  add,  my  Lord,  that  the  fair  rebels  stand 
much  higher  in  my  estimation.  The  gentlemen  are  an 
illiterate  set — those  at  least  whom  I  have  met." 

"  They  are— eh  ?  "  grunted  Lord  Ferrers.     "  Who  ?  " 

"Well,  my  Lord,  I  give  you   as  an  instance  Col. 

William  Washington.     He  is  so  illiterate  that  he  is 

o 

hardly  able  to  write  his  name  !  " 

Lord  Ferrers  was  looking  at  Fanny  and  saw  her 
cheeks  suddenly  flush. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  that,  madam?"  he  said,  with 
his  grim  smile.  "  Are  you  not  disposed  to  say  any- 
thing in  defense  of  your  countryman  ?  " 

"  I  could  easily  reply  to  Col.  Tarleton,"  exclaimed 
Fanny,  with  her  head  proudly  erect. 

"  Reply,  then  !  Reply,  madam,"  said  Lord  Ferrers, 
who  seemed  to  scent  some  retort  at  Col.  Tarleton's 
expense.  "  So  Col.  William  Washington  is  able  to 
write  his  name,  eh  ?  " 

"  Col.  Tarleton  should  have  at  least  discovered,  sir, 
that  Col.  Washington  knows  how  to  make  his  niark!" 

At  this  palpable  allusion  to  the  defeat  of  Tarleton 
by  Col.  Washington  Lord  Ferrers  uttered  a  laugh. 

"Madam!"  exclaimed  Tarleton,  suddenly  flushing 
with  anger,  "  I  should  be  happy  to  meet  your  friend 
Col.  Washington !  " 

"  I  thought  you  had  made  his  acquaintance,  'or,  at 
least,  had  seen  him,"  Fanny  replied.  "  If  you  had 


214  CANOLLES. 

looked  behind  you  at  the  battle  of  the  Cowpens  you 
would  have  enjoyed  that  pleasure,  sir !  "* 

Lord  Ferrers  shook  from  head  to  foot  with  merri- 
ment at  this  answer,  and,  throwing  back  his  head,  ut- 
tered a  louder  laugh  than  before.  As  to  Tarleton,  he 
was  so  much  enraged  that  by  a  movement  evidently 
unconscious,  his  hand  darted  to  his  sword-belt. 

Fanny  did  not  shrink  at  this  furious  gesture,  but 
with  head  erect,  fixed  her  proud  eyes  on  his  scowling 
face.  It  was  Lord  Ferrers  who  broke  the  silence. 
The  old  soldier's  mirth  had  disappeared  in  an  instant 
at  Tarletoirs  threatening  gesture,  and  his  eyes  Hashed. 

u  Miss  Talbot !  "  he  said,  twisting  his  white  mustache, 
a  dangerous  sign  with  him  always. 

The  young  lady  turned  her  head. 

"  Say  just  what  you  please,  Miss  Talbot,7'  added 
Lord  Ferrers ;  "  Col.  Tarleton  knows  better  than  to 
insult  a  lady  in  my  presence  !  "t 

As  he  uttered  these  words  he  turned  round  and 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  Tarleton  with  a  hauteur  evidently 
galling  in  the  extreme  to  the  latter.  With  his  dark 
face  flushed,  and  his  voice  altered  by  the  effort  to  sup- 
press his  anger,  Tarleton  replied  : 

"  Lord  Ferrers  is  good  enough  to  read  me  a  lesson 
— a  somewhat  unnecessary  one,  I  must  be  permitted  to 
add,  as  I  have  insulted  no  one.  As  my  presence  here, 
however,  is  obviously  distasteful,  I  will  not  inflict  it 
further." 

He.  rose,  saluted  stittty,  and  went  out  of  the  room, 

*  These  retorts  at  Col.  Tarleton's  expense  are  historical 
t  This  speech  is  also  historical. 


COL.    TARLETON.  215 

Lord  Ferrers  returning  his  salute  after  the  same 
fashion,  but  making  no  effort  to  detain  him. 

"Kather  a  fiery  young  gentleman,"  grunted  Lord 
Ferrers  as  he  disappeared.  "An  excellent  cavalry 
officer,  and  not  a  had  fellow,  but  with  a  devil  of  a 
temper  when  anything  excites  him !  " 

As  he  spoke,  Lord  Ferrers  looked  carelessly  around 
the  apartment.  All  at  once  he  started,  and  then  fixed 
his  eyes  with  an  expression  of  the  deepest  astonishment 
upon  one  of  the  portraits. 

"Who  in  Heaven's  name  "is  that,  madam?"  he  ex- 
claimed, addressing  Fanny. 


216  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    PORTRAIT. 

The  emotion  of  Col.  Ferrers  as  he  gazed  at  the  por- 
trait was  so  remarkable  that  for  a  moment  a  profound 
silence  reigned  in  the  apartment.  The  portrait  repre- 
sented a  young  gentleman,  or  rather  a  youth,  of  about 
seventeen,  with  dark  hair  curling  at  the  temples,  and 
an  open,  ingenuous,  and  even  noble  face. 

The  original  of  the  picture  was  evidently  either 
Canolles  or  Harry  Cartaret,  to  judge  from  the  likeness 
to  them,  and  allowing  for  the  greater  roundness  and 
freshness  of  youth,  Lord  Ferrers  had  exclaimed : 

"  Who  in  Heaven's  name  is  that,  madam  ? " 

The  question  was  addressed  to  Fanny,  but  a  quick 
look  of  constraint,  and  an  apparent  conviction  that 
caution  was  necessary  in  replying,  made  the  young 
lady  hesitate. 

"  Is  my  question  disagreeable  ?  Is  there  any  objec- 
tion to  responding  to  it  ?  Is  there  any  reason  why  I 
should  not  be  informed  who  is  or  was  the  original  of 
that  portrait,  madam  ?  "  exclaimed  Lord  Ferrers. 

Fanny  hesitated  still,  when  the  worthy  Mrs.  Talbot 
came  to  the  rescue. 

"Oh,  no!  no,  indeed,  sir!"  said  the  excellent  and 
nervous  lady.  "  That  is  a  portrait  of  Hartley  !  " 

"  Hartley  !  "  exclaimed  Lord  Ferrers,  pushing  back 


THE    PORTRAIT.  217 

his  chair  so  suddenly  that  his  scabbard  clashed  against 
the  floor.  "  Who  was  Hartley  ?  " 

So  completely  paralyzed  was  good  Mrs.  Talbot  by 
this  abrupt  exclamation  that  she  began  to  tremble,  and 
the  frills  of  her  cap  nodded  nervously.  Before  she 
could  speak,  Fanny  interfered  and  said  quietly : 

"The  portrait  is  that  of— a  friend  of  the  family,  sir. 
And  now  as  you  have  been  so  courteous,  may  I  beg 
you  to  grant  me  a  single  request  ?  " 

"  Make  it,  madam,"  said  Lord  Ferrers  in  a  voice  of 
great  emotion,  and  continued  to  gaze  fixedly  upon  the 
picture,  which  as  fixedly  returned  his  gaze. 

"  My  request  is  that  you  will  not  press  for  a  reply  to 
your  question,  sir,  or  seek  to  ascertain  the  original  of 
this  portrait.  I  can  only  explain  this  request  so  far  as 
to  say  that  there  are  reasons  at  present  why  the  original 
does  not  desire  to  be  identified  with  the  picture." 

Lord  Ferrers  looked  at  the  speaker  with  an  expres- 
sion of  utter  bewilderment. 

"  I  am  sure,"  said  Fanny,  in  her  sweet,  earnest  voice, 
"that  you  will  not  insist  upon  a  question  which  it 
would  be  painful  to  us  to  reply  to  further." 

"I  will  not — certainly — you  are  at  liberty,  madam — 
but — good  Heavens !  what  a  likeness  ! " 

"  I  have  your  word,  then,  sir  ?  " 

"  Yes,  madam — since  you  insist,  I  shall  give  it.  But 
one  other  question— you  say  I  must  not  seek  to  dis- 
cover who  the  original  of  the  portrait  is.  Then  the 
original — is  not  dead." 

Fanny  hesitated ;  then  said  : 

"He  is  not,  sir." 


218  CANOLLES. 

Lord  Ferrers  listened  to  this  reply  with  the  deepest 
emotion. 

"  He  is  living  ? "  he  exclaimed. 

"  He  is,  sir." 

"  Is  he  in  Virginia — in  America  ?^ — is  he — " 

"  I  must  recall  to  you  your  promise,  sir,"  Fanny 
interposed.  "You  have  given  me  your  word  that  you 
would  ask  no  further  questions  in  reference  to  this 
picture." 

Lord  Ferrers  sank  back  in  his  chair. 

"  If  I  have  given  my  word  I  will  keep  it,"  he  mur- 
mured in  a  voice  which  was  scarcely  recognizable. 
"  So  the  portrait  is  that  of  a  person  still  living — '  of  a 
friend  of  the  family' — of  this  family ! " 

His  eyes  were  again  raised  to  the  picture,  and  an 
expression  of  profound  tenderness  slowly  came  to  his 
face — the  white  mustache  on  his  lip  shook  slightly. 

"  That  portrait  is  the  picture  of  Hartley  Ferrers  ! " 
he  muttered,  "or  old  George  Ferrers  is  blind  or  losing 
his  senses ! " 

A  deep  silence  had  settled  on  the  apartment,  and  no 
word  was  uttered — either  by  Lucy,  seated  by  Mrs. 
Talbot,  or  Eleanor  and  Lieut.  Ferrers,  who  had  been 
engaged  in  what  seemed  a  most  intimate  and  confiden- 
tial colloquy,  carried  on  in  a  low,  nearly  inaudible  tone, 
the  young  lady  listening  or  speaking  with  eyes  cast 
down,  a  slight  rose  tint  in  her  cheeks,  and  from  time 
to  time  a  quick,  furtive  glance  at  her  ardent  com- 
panion. 

The  evident  emotion  of  Lord  Ferrers  had  impressed 


THE    PORTRAIT.  219 

every  one,  however,  so  forcibly  that  all  was  stillness 
for  the  moment  in  the  apartment. 

Suddenly  a  rapid  firing  was  heard  in  the  direction  of 
the  bivouac  of  the  British  troopers,  and  Lord  Ferrers 
started  up,  losing  sight  instantly  of  all  but  his  duty  as 
a  soldier. 

"  Something  is  going  on  yonder  which  it  behooves 
me  to  know,  ladies  ! "  he  exclaimed  gruffly.  "  I  beg  to 
bid  you  good  evening." 

A  moment  afterward  he  and  Tom  Ferrers  had  left 
the  house,  leaped  on  their  horses,  and  were  going  at 
full  speed  in  the  direction  of  the  firing. 


220  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

HOW    COL.    TARLETON    ARRIVED    TOO    LATE. 

Canolles,  with  about  twenty-five  men,  had  attacked 
the  British  detachment,  dismounted  and  off  their 
guard. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  inform  the  reader  that  after  turn- 
ing his  back  on  the  advancing  column  on  the  night 
before,  the  partisan  had  hastened  to  get  his  men  under 
arms,  and  that  the  mysterious  noises  in  the  Swamp 
accompanying  the  enemy's  movements  were  made  by 
Canolles  and  his  Rough  Riders. 

There  was  for  this  man  apparently,  as  for  his  follow- 
ers, a  singular  attraction  in  partisan  warfare — the 
tracking  an  enemy  as  a  hunter  tracks  his  game  until 
the  moment  arrived  for  a  sudden  attack.  It  had  for 
him  all  the  charms  of  tiger  hunting  in  the  Indian 
jungle,  and  on  this  occasion  Canolles  took  an  unwonted 
interest  in  the  prospect  of  an  encounter,  as  one  of  his 
opponents  was  Colonel  Tarleton,  for  whom  he  had  con- 
ceived, as  a  Virginian,  a  great  hatred.  It  was  obvious 
that  the  expedition  of  the  enemy  had  for  its  object 
either  a  reconnoissance  or  the  collection  of  supplies, 
though  what  had  induced  Lord  Ferrers  and  Tarleton 
both  to  take  part  in  it  Canolles  could  not  imagine. 

The  plain  course  before  the  partisan,  however,  was  to 
follow  the  manoauvre  of  the  column  until  a  favorable 
moment  came  for  attacking  it ;  and  this  he  did  all  day 


HOW    COL.    TARLETON    ARRIVED    TOO    LATE.  221 

long,  keeping  entirely  out  of  sight  even  of  the  British 
flankers — a  manoauvre  easy  of  execution  from  his  perfect 
knowledge  of  every  road  and  by-road  in  this  singular 
region  of  thicket  and  swamp  land. 

Reconnoitering  in  person  at  every  favorable  point, 
Canolles  observed  every  incident  of  the  inarch  ;  the 
halts  at  farm  houses,  where,  controlled  by  Lord  Fer- 
rers, the  troopers  were  not  permitted  to  leave  their 
horses  or  indulge  in  any  outrages;  the  occasional  hesi- 
tations as  to  the  course  to  pursue,  and  all  the  details  of 
the  movements  of  cavalry  in  an  enemy's  country. 

Evening  came  at  last,  and  when  Lord  Ferrers-  and 
Tarleton  entered  the  Chatsworth  grounds,  Canolles, 
who  had  halted  his  men  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off  and 
ridden  forward  alone,  observed  from  a  clump  of  trees 
in  rear  of  the  house  all  the  details  of  the  interview  be- 
tween the  British  officers  and  the  two  young  ladies — 
the  hand  laid  by  Ferrers  on  Tarleton's  bridle,  the  en- 
trance of  the  two  officers  into  the  house,  and  the 
march  of  the  British  troopers  to  the  glade  beyond, 
where  they  were  seen  to  dismount,  tie  their  horses  to 
the  boughs  of  the  trees,  and  rest. 

The  moment  for  the  attack  had  evidently  arrived, 
and  Canolles  returned  to  his  men  at  a  swift  gallop,  and 
gave  his  orders.  At  the  word  the  Rough  Riders  moved 
rapidly,  but  in  profound  silence,  through  a  narrow 
road  in  the  wood,  just  visible  beneath  its  overhanging 
boughs  in  the  moonlight;  and  in  fifteen  'minutes  he 
was  in  sight  of  the  British  detachment,  scattered  about 
and,  many  of  them,  with  their  arms  unbuckled. 

Tarleton  was  not  present.     Chafing  at  the  reproof 


222  CANOLLES. 

administered  to  him  by  Lord  Ferrers,  and  disposed  for 
the  moment  to  nurse  his  wrath  in  solitude,  he  had 
walked  down  to  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  reaching 
the  vicinity  of  the  Moss  Rock,  had  leaned  against  a 
tree,  and  was  indulging,  sotto  voce,  in  some  muttered 
words,  neither  very  elegant  in  themselves,  nor  very  in- 
dicative of  regard  for  his  superior  officer. 

From  this  moody  reverie  he  was  startled  by  the  firing 
from  the  British  bivouac. 

In  fact,  Can  oil  es  had  made,  as  we  have  said,  a  sud- 
den and  determined  attack  upon  the  British  troopers, 
and  before  Tarleton  or  Lord  Ferrers  could  reach  the 
spot,  the  struggle  was  substantially  over.  Taken  com- 
pletely by  surprise,  and  having  in  young  Lieut.  Jones, 
left  in  charge  by  Tom  Ferrers,  a  mere  youth,  wholly 
incompetent  to  contend  with  a  soldier  like  Canolles, 
the  men  had  made  only  a  brief  resistance,  many  of 
them — from  their  unarmed  condition — no  resistance  at 
all ;  and  when  Tarleton  and  Lord  Ferrers  approached 
the  spot  the  panic  was  general. 

Lord  Ferrers  and  his  nephew  were  in  front,  followed 
close  by  Tarleton,  who  had  caught  his  horse  from  his 
orderly  in  the  grounds  and  came  on  tit  a  headlong 
gallop. 

Before  Lord  Ferrers  reached  the  bivouac  he  was  sur- 
rounded and  captured. 

The  old  nobleman  was  in  a  rage,  but,  even  excited  as 
he  was,  could  not  be  blind  to  the  fact  that  his  captors 
were  treating  him  with  most  scrupulous  respect.  In 
spite  of  the  vigorous  sweep  of  his  broadsword,  which 
cut  more  than  one  of  the  Rough  Riders  out  of  the  sad- 


HOW    COL.    TARLETON    ARRIVED    TOO    LATE.  223 

die,  no  attempt  was  made  to  injure  him — he  was  simply 
secured  and  his  horse  led  off  by  the  bridle,  the  old 
cavalier  cursing  and  swearing  in  a  manner  violent 
enough  to  make  the  blood  run  cold. 

O 

Canolles,  by  whose  orders,  it  is  unnecessary  to  say, 
this  respect  had  been  paid  to  Lord  Ferrers — now  turned 
his  attention  to  the  opponent  whom  he  wished  to  meet 
in  person — Col.  Tarleton. 

Tarleton  came  on,  his  horse  driven  by  the  spur,  and 
making  long  bounds.  His  face,  seen  clearly  in  the 
moonlight,  was  furious.  In  no  mild  mood  before,  in 
consequence  of  the  scene  in  the  Chatsworth  drawing- 
room,  the  surprise  of  his  men  made  his  rage  overflow. 
With  drawn  sword,  and  form  bent  forward  in  the  short 
stirrups,  drawing  up  his  knees,  he  made  straight  at 
Canolles,  who  came  to  meet  him,  and  whom  he  evi- 
dently recognized. 

"  It  is  you  !     I  thought  so  ! "  he  exclaimed. 

"And  you!  I  knew  that!"  was  the  answer  of 
Canolles. 

The 'two  horsemen  rushed  together  as  they  spoke, 
and  their  broadswords  clashed. 

It  was  easy  to  see  that  both  were  superb  riders  and 
swordsmen.  A  dozen  cuts,  right,  left  and  front,  were 
parried. 

"  Good  !  "  cried  Canolles,  whose  face  glowed,  "  it 
really  is  a  pleasure  to  engage  a  good  strong  wrist,  like 
yours,  Colonel." 

"I  will  make  your  pleasure  short,  Mr.  Marauder!" 
was  the  furious  reply. 

"If  you  can!"    Canolles  laughed;  and,  shortening 


224  CANOLLES. 

his  sword,  he  was  about  to  plunge  it  into  Tarleton's 
breast,  when  one  of  the  British  fugitives,  who  had 
completely  lost  control  of  his  frightened  horse,  ran 
violently  against  the  animal  on  which  Canolles  was 
mounted. 

The  shock  was  so  great  that  Canolles  was  hurled 
back  and  nearly  unseated.  Before  he  could  recover,  a 
panic-stricken  rush  of  troopers  in  red  coats  completely 
separated  him  from  Tarleton,  who  seemed  to  be  borne 
away  in  the  melee.  Whether  forced  thus  from  the  field 
against  his  will,  or  seeing  that  by  flight  alone  he  could 
escape  capture — as  he  had  seen  at  the  Cowpens — Col. 
Tarleton  certainly  did  not  reappear.  He  and  the  rem- 
nants of  the  force,  including  Tom  Ferrers,  disappeared 
in  headlong  flight  in  the  woods. 

Canolles  reined  in  his  horse,  dancing  on  all  four  feet, 
and  turned  to  Walter  Hay  field,  who  was  near  him. 

He  was  laughing. 

"I  promised  you  I  would  lay  my  hand  once  more  on 
the  worthy  Col.  Tarleton !"  he  said. 

"  And  you  laid  it  rather  heavy,  Captain !  The  defeat 
is  out  and  out." 

"  So  it  seems — and  let  them  go.  I  could  never  catch 
up  with  them,  and  I  want  no  prisoners.  Order  the 
recall  to  be  sounded  at  once,  and  get  the  men  in  line." 

Walter  wheeled  his  horse. 

"  Wait  a  moment.  My  orders  in  reference  to  Lord 
Ferrers  are  obeyed?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  He  was  captured  without  injury  to  him, 
although  some  of  the  men  suffered." 

"  Very  well." 


HOW    COL.    TARLETON    ARRIVED    TOO    LATE.  225 

"He  is  under  guard — and  not  under  guard,  as  I 
ordered  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.?J 

"  He  retains  his  arms?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Well.  See  that  no  one  makes  any  attempt  to  de- 
prive him  of  them  or  annoy  him  in  any  manner — it 
will  be  at  their  peri).  I  repeat  that  he  is  to  be  treated 
with  profound  respect." 

Walter  saluted. 

"  When  the  men  are  in  column  you  will  take  com- 
mand and  move  back  with  them  by  the  Malvern  Hill 
road  to  the  Swamp.  I  am  going  before  on  the  same 
road." 

Walter  saluted  again. 

"A  last  word,"  said  Canolles.  "You  will  give  or- 
ders that  none  of  Lord  Ferrers'  questions  are  to  be 
answered.  He  will  ride  in  front  of  the  column,  twenty 
paces  in  advance,  wearing  his  arms,  and  unguarded ; 
and  you  will  ride  with  him." 
15 


226  CANOLLBS. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

HOW    COLONEL    LORD     FERRERS    RODE    IN    AN    UNEXPECTED 
DIRECTION,  AND    WITH    WHOM    HE    SUPPED. 

An  hour  afterwards  the  Rough  Riders,  accompanied 
by  a  few  prisoners,  were  moving  back  in  column 
through  the  devious  bypaths  of  the  pine  thickets 
towards  White  Oak  Swamp. 

Canolles  was  not  visible.  Lord  Ferrers  rode  in  front 
of  the  column,  very  much  as  if  he  were  in  command; 
and  this  impression  had  to  support  it  the  fact  that  he 
still  wore  his  sword,  and  his  pistols  were  still  in  his 
holsters.  There  were  no  indications  whatever  that  he 
was  a  prisoner — no  guard  rode  near  him,  and  Walter 
Haytield  moved  respectfully  several  paces  in  rear,  like 
an  aide-de-camp  following  his  general. 

The  column  moved  on  through  the  moonlight, 
gradually  approaching  the  White  Oak  Swamp.  The 
silence  was  profound;  the  hoof  strokes  of  the  horses 
on  the  sandy  road  were  so  light  as  only  to  make  it  more 
striking. 

Lord  Ferrers  moving  alone,  in  advance,  seemed  at 
last  to  be  oppressed  by  this  mysterious  nocturnal  march, 
and  turning  his  head,  said  to  Walter  gruffly: 

"  Ride  up." 

The  boy  obeyed. 

"What  the  devil  does  all  this  mean?"  growled  the 
old  militaire. 


WITH    WHOM    LORD    FERRERS    SUPPED.  227 

"Mean,  Colonel?" 

"  So  you  know  me,  eh  ?" 

"  You  rank,  naturally  from  your  uniform,  as  Colo- 
nel," returned  Walter,  correcting  his  slip  of  the 
tongue. 

"  Well,  I  repeat  my  question.  What  is  the  meaning 
of  what  has  occurred  to-night  ?  Whose  prisoner  am 
I?  Where  is  your  commander?  You  are  not  too 
young,  my  friend,  to  command  this  troop,  and  I  have 
known  some  devilish  good  soldiers  and  officers  no 
taller  than  you  who  had  six-footers  under  them,  and 
deserved  to — but  you  wear  no  evidence  of  rank.  Who 
and  what  are  you  and  your  men,  and  where  is  your 
officer?" 

Walter  smiled  and  said  respectfully  : 

"  You  ask  me  a  great  number  of  questions,  Colonel 
— more  than  I  can  reply  to  in  a  breath." 

"  Reply  to  each  singly,  then ! "  growled  Lord 
Ferrers. 

"  Will  your  Lordship  first  reply  to  one  I  shall  myself 
ask  you?" 

"  My  Lordship  ! — humph !  So  it  seems  I  am  better 
known  than  you  make  out!  " 

Walter,  conscious  of  another  lapsus  linguce,  was  a 
little  taken  aback,  but  answered  quickly : 
.     "I  heard  one  of  the  prisoners  utter  your  name  and 
title,  my  Lord.7' 

"  Very  well ;  ride  up  close,  and  let's  talk,  my  young 
friend,  for  this  infernal  swamp  is  enough  to  depress  a 
man's  spirits." 

"  It  is  rather  melancholy,  Colonel." 


228  CANOLLES. 

"  But,  thank  Heaven  !  you  can't  make  much  out  of 
old  George  Ferrers  with  your  swamp  and  your  night 
riders — damme!  Ha!  ha!  I  take  things  as  they 
come,  mon  garcon;  but  I  indulge  a  slight  curiosity  to 
know  who  the  devil  has  captured  me,  and  where  we 
are  going?" 

"Your  Lordship  has  not  promised  to  reply  to  my 
question." 

"  Ask  it." 

"  Has  your  Lordship  been  treated  with  respect  and 
due  consideration?" 

"  Yes ;  I'll  say  that  for  you — damme !  Fve  been 
handled  as  gingerly  as  if  I  were  a  piece  of  porcelain. 
I  made  a  good  right  and  left  cut  in  the  fight  yonder, 
but  nobody  took  the  trouble  to  cut  at  me  in  return. 
Then  you  leave  me  my  arms;  I  ride  in  front  without 
a  guard,  and  I  even  have,  ha !  ha  !  an  aide-de-camp  ! " 

"  Very  much  at  your  orders,  my  Lord ;  I  am  glad 
to  find  that  you  are  disposed  to  look  at  things  so 
philosophically. " 

Lord  Ferrers  smiled  grimly. 

"  I  like  your  lingo,  my  young  friend.  You  talk 
like  a  book !  Well,  I've  always  been  a  little  or  a  good 
deal  of  a  philosopher.  War  is  a  game — you  play,  and 
win  or  lose ;  and  why  not  make  up  your  mind  to  take 
the  chances  of  the  cards?  I  am  an  English  soldier 
making  war  on  you  Americans.  I  follow  my  flag  and 
you  follow  yours ;  each  takes  his  chance.  I  am  cap- 
tured— well,  other  people  have  been  captured  before — 
I  don't  care  a  button,  as  I'll  soon  be  exchanged,  no 
doubt.  My  only  sentiment  at  present  is  one  of  slight 


WITH    WHOM    LORD    FERRERS    SUPPED.  229 

curiosity  to  know  what  officer  of  the  American  army 
has  caught  me  napping." 

At  the  words,  "What  officer  of  the  American 
army, "  Walter,  rememhering  the  orders  of  Canolles, 
was  more  than  ever  on  his  guard. 

"Your  Lordship  must  pardon  my  not  replying,"  he 
said;  "  as  you  may  soon  rejoin  your  flag  by  exchange, 
it  might  be  imprudent.  It  is  a  good  rule  not  to  answer 
the  questions  of  an  able  opponent.  Were  I  to  tell  you 
that  Gen.  Lafayette  was  present  to-night  you  would 
know  that  his  force  was  in  this  vicinity,  would  you 
not?" 

Lord  Ferrers  uttered  an  absolute  guffaw. 

"Sharp!"  he  said,  "infernally  sharp,  my  young 
friend.  I  begin  to  think  that  I  have  the  honor  of  con- 
versing with  the  real  commanding  officer  of  these  wor- 
thies moving  in  our  rear." 

Walter  smiled. 

"  If  you  are  not,  who  is  ?" 

"  That  is,  after  all,  the  question,  Colonel." 

Lord  Ferrers  knit  his  brow  and  seemed  to  reflect. 

"  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Impromptu  Aide-de-Camp,"  he 
said,  "  that  if  I  did  not  know  to  the  contrary  I  should 
suppose  one  thing  ?  " 

"  What  is  that,  Colonel  ?" 

"  That  your  commanding  officer  was  a  former  friend 
of  mine." 

"  A  former  friend,  Colonel  ?  " 

"  A  certain  Captain  Canolles,  chief  of  Rough  Eiders/* 

"  Capt.  Canolles  ? — Canolles?"  returned  Walter,  with 
a  puzzled  air. 


230  CANOLLES. 

"You  must  certainly  have  heard  of  that  gentleman 
—eh?" 

"  The  name  is  not  unfamiliar  to  me.  He  was  a  par- 
tisan, I  believe?" 

"  Yes,  and  a  devilish  keen  fellow,  I  can  tell  you, 
commanding  a  troop  just  like  yours,  and  in  this  very 
region.  The  fact  is,  I  begin  to  think  that  I  have  made 
the  acquaintance  to-night  of  the  gentlemen  Rough 
Riders  in  person — only,  Canolles  cannot  be  your  com- 
mander for  two  excellent  reasons." 

"  Two  reasons,  Colonel  ?" 

"  He  left  the  country  some  time  since.  He  told  me 
at  Petersburg  that  he  would  be  off  at  once — and  in  the 
second  place,  he  and  I  are  old  companions,  and  he 
would  never  have  attacked  or  captured  me." 

"You  are  a  friend  of  Captain  Canolles,  Colonel?" 

"Yes,  and  no  man  better  deserved  friends  than 
Canolles — a  devilish  brave,  splendid,  cool,  magnificent 
fellow,  or  George  Ferrers  is  no  judge  ! " 

Walter  could  not  conceal  his  satisfaction  at  this 
speech. 

"  I  really  should  have  liked  to  know  a  person  whom 
your  Lordship  esteemed  so  highly,"  he  said ;  "  and  now, 
my  Lord,  as  I  find  we  are  entering  upon  dangerous 
ground,  you  will  allow  me  to  precede  you  and  show 
you  the  way." 

"  The  devil ! "  grunted  Col.  Ferrers,  with  his  short 
laugh;  "we  are  in  a  drawing-room,  it  seems  !  Well, 
go  on,  my  friend,  but  don't  tumble  me,  man  and 
horse,  in  a  quagmire,  if  you  can  avoid  it." 

"  Your  Lordship  need  not  fear — the  road  is  practi- 


WITH    WHOM    LORD    FERRERS    SUPPED.  231 

cable  and  I  know  it  perfectly.  You  have  only  to  ride 
directly  in  my  rear/' 

Walter  passed  ahead,  and  the  column  entered  the 
White  Oak  Swamp.  The  scene  was  similar  to  that 
described  in  earlier  pages  of  this  narrative.  A  vast 
expanse  of  thicket — water  sleeping  in  the  moonlight — 
a  tangled  undergrowth  here  and  there,  wholly  impene- 
trable— the  mournful  cry  of  the  whippoorwill,  which 
was  answered  from  time  to  time  by  the  weird  laughter 
of  the  owl  from  the  remote  depths  of  the  pine  and 
oak  thicket.  Such  was  the  great  White  Oak  Swamp 
on  the  night  when  Lord  Ferrers  entered  it.  The 
moonlight  surrounded  every  object  with  a  mysterious 
attraction  with  which  the  weird  mingled,  and  the  Eng- 
lish officer  gazed  around  him  with  curious  interest. 

The  column,  with  Walter  and  Ferrers  in  front,  moved 
on  thus  mile  after  mile,  now  on  firm  ground,  now 
through  large  expanses  of  shallow,  nearly  covered  by 
the  long,  lush  swamp  grass,  and  at  last  came  to  a  con- 
siderable sheet  of  water,  beyond  which  was  a  sort  of 
island.  Walter  pushed  on,  the  water  reaching  to  the 
girth.  Lord  Ferrers  and  the  column  followed,  and 
five  minutes  afterwards  they  gained  the  island,  which 
seemed  of  considerable  extent  and  was  nearly  covered 
with  trees. 

To  the  right  a  light  glimmered,  and  in  the  direction 
of  this  light  Walter,  after  giving  an  order  to  the  men, 
led  the  way,  followed  by  Col.  Ferrers — the  troop  defil- 
ing to  the  left,  where  they  soon  disappeared  in  the  thick 
foliage. 

"As  it  is  forbidden   to   ask   questions,   my  young 


232  CANOLLES. 

friend,"  said  Lord  Ferrers,  "I  will  not  inflict  the  said 
questions.  I  content  myself  with  the  observation  that 
I  am  devilish  curious  to  know  where  we  are  going,  and 
whether  we  are  to  have  any  supper  ? " 

"  I  think  I  can  promise  you  some  supper,  Colonel." 

"  Glad  to  hear  it.  I'm  as  hungry  as  a  wolf,  and  as 
thirsty  as  a  dozen  fish." 

"  The  Captain  has  some  excellent  rum,  too,  I  believe." 

"  The  Captain  ?     There's  a  captain— eh  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  Lord." 

"And  he's  here?" 

"! I  think  so." 

"  Introduce  me  without  delay  ! — ha  !  ha  !  Excellent 
rum  ! — and  what  did  you  say  was  the  menu,  my  friend?" 

"  I  think  there's  an  old  ham — we  have  some  excellent 
hams  in  Virginia,  my  Lord — and  some  fried  chicken, 
which  is  also  agreeable  when  one  is  hungry,  and  perhaps 
a  few  potatoes,  peas,  and  such  trifles." 

Lord  Ferrers  drew  rein,  and,  stopping,  looked  at 
Walter  with  solemnity. 

"  My  young  friend,"  he  said,  "it  seems  that  ques- 
tions are  not  to  be  asked,  but  I  mean  to  ask  one.  Are 
you  jesting  with  your  miserable  captive  ?  Ham ! 
chicken  !  potatoes  !  peas  !  and  excellent  rum  !  And 
this  to  a  soldier — a  wolf — who  has  eaten  nothing  for 
nearly  twenty-four  hours !  My  friend,  are  you  wantonly 
trifling  with  the  feelings  of  a  fellow-creature?" 

"  By  no  means,  my  Lord.  There  is  old  black  Wil- 
liam preparing  supper." 

Indeed  a  sable  figure  was  seen  busily  engaged  at  a 
fire  beneath  an  oak  near  a  rude  cabin,  through  the 
window  of  which  light  shone. 


WITH    WHOM    LORD    FERRERS   SUPPED.  233 

"Good  Heavens!  "  cried  Lord  Ferrers  with  an  elec- 
tric gesture,  "'tis  true!  It  is  not  an  illusion  of  the 
brain!— ha!  ha!" 

"  I  would  never  deceive  you  on  so  serious  a  subject, 
Colonel !"  laughed  "Walter. 

"  And  my  host  awaits  me  ?  "  exclaimed  Lord  Ferrers 
with  beaming  countenance. 

"  I  think  so,  my  Lord." 

"  Then  en  evant!  my  young  friend;  lead  on." 

We  have  arrived,  my  Lord.  Allow  me  to  take  your 
horse/' 

"  Not  at  all.     Here  is  a  bough." 

And  Lord  Ferrers  tied  his  own  horse,  Walter  imita- 
ting him,  and  then  leading  the  way  toward  the  cabin 
about  twenty  paces  distant. 

It  was  a  rustic  affair,  with  a  chimney  of  logs  built 
up  outside,  and  had  a  door  and  window  on  the  side 
which  Lord  Ferrers  now  approached.  As  they  drew 
near,  a  rich  and  savory  odor  invaded  the  atmosphere 
— an  odor  of  broiled  ham  and  eggs,  broiled  chicken 
and  other  edibles.  Lord  Ferrers  closed  his  eyes  and 
drew  a  long  breath  through  his  nostrils. 

"I  no  longer  regret  my  capture,"  he  said,  "if  this 
is  a  specimen  of  my  rations  during  my  captivity." 

"  We  shall  try  to  make  them  better,  my  Lord," 
Walter  said,  with  a  laugh.  "  Remember  what  short 
notice  we  had  of  the  pleasure  of  your  company  to- 
night!" 

"Yes — you  say  'we,'  I  observe.  You  are,  then,  a 
friend  of  his  Excellency  the  Chief?  " 

"  A  very  warm  friend." 


234  CANOLLES. 

"  And  we  are  about  to  see  him  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Delighted  to  know  him  ;  but  I  swear  I  regret  one 
thing." 

"  What  is  that,  my  Lord  ?  " 

"  That  your  captain  is  not  Canolles  !  I  would  rather 
hobnob  to-night  in  the  Swamp  with  that  lad  of  mettle 
than  sup  with  the  Premier  Duke  of  England." 

The  door  of  the  cabin  had  opened  as  he  was 
speaking. 

"  You  have  your  wish,  my  Lord/'  said  Canolles, 
appearing  in  the  doorway,  "  and  I  assure  you  I  recip- 
rocate your  preference  in  reference  to  yourself." 


THE    SUPPEK.  235 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    SUPPER. 

The  sudden  appearance  of  Canolles  standing  in  the 
doorway  of  the  cabin  seemed  to  fill  Col.  Ferrers  with 
the  utmost  astonishment.  He  stopped  short,  exclaim- 
ing : 

"  You !  " 

"  In  person,  my  dear  Colonel,"  replied  Canolles, 
whose  face  indicated  unmistakable  pleasure.  "  What 
surprises  you  ? " 

"  Nothing  surprises  me  in  this  curious  world," 
grunted  Lord  Ferrers  with  affected  indifference,  though 
it  was  perfectly  plain  that  his  pleasure  at  the  meeting 
was  as  great  as  that  felt  by  his  host ;  but  here  you  are, 
and  I  don't  mind  saying  I'm  devilish  glad  to  see  you, 
Canolles!" 

The  partisan  had  advanced  quickly  to  receive  his 
guest,  with  his  hand  extended  to  bestow  a  cordial 
grasp.  Lord  Ferrers  extended  two  fingers. 

"  So  it's  not  your  ghost,  or  simulacrum  ?  "  he  said. 
"  They  didn't  make  a  ghost  of  me,  too,  eh  ? — in  the 
fight  yonder,  and  we  are  not  meeting  in  Hades  ?  " 

"  The  surroundings  are  rather  prosaic  for  that  classic 
region,  Colonel,"  laughed  Canolles,  "  and  you  may 
perceive  an  odor  unknown  probably  to  Achilles  and 
Ulysses — that  of  a  Virginia  ham." 

"  I  do  ! "  was  the  old  Colonel's  emphatic  response. 


236  CANOLLES. 

"Ambrosia  never  equaled  it,  and  I  catch  a  glimpse  of 
bottles  yonder  which  contain,  Fll  venture  to  swear, 
something  a  long  way  ahead  of  nectar !  " 

"  You  shall  test  the  question,  Colonel.  But  come 
in  ! — come  in  !  I  never  hoped  to  have  the  good  for- 
tune to  see  you  beneath  my  roof." 

Canolles  drew  the  Colonel  in,  and  Walter,  having 
repaired  to  the  bivouac  of  the  troop  at  the  other  ex- 
tremity of  the  small  swamp  island  to  carry  an  order, 
the  friends  found  themselves  alone  in  the  cabin.  It 
was  a  rude  affair,  with  one  room  only  and  unboarded 
rafters.  A  broad  fire-place,  a  rough  table,  a  camp  couch 
and  two  or  three  rustic  arm-chairs,  evidently  the  handi- 
work of  some  member  of  the  command — these  objects 
were  seen  by  the  light  of  two  tallow  candles,  burning 
in  superbly  chased  silver  candlesticks.  On  the  camp 
couch  lay  the  hat,  gloves,  and  belt  containing  the 
broadsword  of  the  partisan.  Canolles  hastened  to  re- 
ceive the  cocked  hat  and  accoutrements  of  Lord  Fer- 
rers, which  he  deposited  beside  his  own,  and  then  draw- 
ing up  the  chair  of  honor — a  broad-seated  affair  with 
sturdy  arms — said  : 

"  Sit  down,  Colonel,  and  let  me  say  that  no  one  could 
be  more  welcome  here  than  yourself." 

"Humph! — well,  that's  highly  flattering  to  a  pris- 
oner, i'  faith !  " 

"  A  prisoner !  You  do  not  seriously  consider  your- 
self a  prisoner  ?  " 

"  What  else  am  I  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  guest — do  not  doubt  that  for  a  moment, 
my  Lord." 


THE    SUPPER.  237 

Ferrers  looked  at  Canolles -with  his  grim-looking 
smile  and  said : 

"  So  I'm  in  a  cavern  of  the  Arabian  Nights,  where 
all's  unreal !  I've  dreamed  all  this,  then  !  There  was 
no  fight  to-night;  I  was  not  captured;  we  have  not 
been  marching  through  the  most  damnable  roads  that 
I  ever  laid  eyes  on,  except  that  I  could  not  see  where  I 
was  riding,  and  I  am  free  to  depart  from  this  abode  of 
the  genii  whenever  I  choose — eh  !" 

"  At  this  very  moment,  if  you  desire,  Colonel,  with 
an  escort  to  conduct  you;  but  you  will  not  go  before 
supper,  I  hope." 

"  If  I  do  I'm — but  let  us  not  be  profane  ! " 

"  No  doubt  you  are  hungry  ?" 

"  Hungry  ?     No  wolf  ever  approached  me  ! " 

"  Then  I  will  order  supper." 

Canolles  called  to  the  dusky  figure  at  the  fire,  and  a 
muttered  response  as  of  some  high  functionary  dis- 
turbed in  important  business  came  back. 

"  I  venture  to  assure  you,  my  Lord,"  he  said,  "  that 
you  will  not  have  long  to  wait." 

"  Glad  of  it;  but  while  we  are  waiting,  tell  me  were 
you  not  in  command  yonder  to-night  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"You  laid  a  trap  for  us,  eh  ?" 

"  Not  for  you — for  another  person." 

"Col.  Tarleton,  eh?" 

"Precisely." 

"  Hey  !  I  begin  to  understand  now.  You  do  not 
indulge  a  very  strong  affection  for  that  excellent  young 
man!" 


238  CANOLLES. 

"  I  do  not,  naturally,  since  I  am  a  Virginian.  Col. 
Tarleton  has  carried  the  torch  as  well  as  the  sword 
wherever  he  has  moved." 

"  Fact !  I  have  told  him  twenty  times  to  stop  that 
damnably  disgraceful  way  of  making  war.  but  nothing 
came  of  it.  Cornwallis  don't  know  of  it,  or  lets  him 
do  it,  and  though  I  rank  Tarleton,  he  is  not  under  me 
— except  on  occasions  such  as  this  to-night,  when  we 
went  together  on  a  reconnoissance." 

"  I  saw  you  on  the  march  and  regretted  your  pres- 
ence, but  you  are  far  too  good  a  soldier  to  blame  my 
attack  on  that  account." 

"  Who  could  be  so  absurd  ?" 

"  I  could  only  give  the  strictest  orders  that  you  should 
be  treated  with  the  utmost  respect.  Were  my  orders 
obeyed  ?  If  not—" 

"  To  the  letter  !  Not  a  finger  touched  rne.  I  was 
lifted  gently  from  the  saddle  like  a  delicate  young 
female,  most  tenderly  cared  for  and  marched  to  this 
charming  retreat  at  the  head  of  the  column,  and  ap- 
parently in  command  of  my  captors— 

"  Whither  I  preceded  you,  Colonel,  in  order  to  have 
some  supper  ready  for  you.  Here  it  is." 

As  Canolles  spoke,  an  aged  African,  with  snow-white 
hair  and  clad  in  a  mass  of  rags,  appeared  at  the  door 
in  the  rear,  and  coming  in  saluted  the  company  with 
respect  and  dignit}T.  On  one  arm  he  bore  a  snowy 
cloth  and  napkins ;  in  the  other  hand  some  plates  of 
exquisitely  delicate  porcelain-like  china,  knives,  forks 
and  silver  spoons.  With  the  air  of  long  practice,  evi- 
dently in  a  gentleman's  family,  he  covered  the  rude 


THE    SUPPER.  239 

table  with  the  cloth,  placed  the  damask  napkins  neatly 
folded  beneath  the  plates,  arranged  the  knives,  forks 
and  spoons  by  a  single  movement,  it  seemed,  of  the 
hand,  and  then  silently  retired. 

"  Humph !"  grunted  Lord  Ferrers;  "  do  you  know, 
my  friend,  there's  not  a  major  domo  in  the  finest  castle 
in  England  that  could  have  done  that  better? " 

"  Old  William  is  well  trained,  Colonel.  An  old 
family  servant." 

"  Of  yours  ?  " 

"  Of  my  father  before  me.  He  wore  a  black  suit  and 
white  gloves  once,  and  stood  behind  some  distinguished 
company.  He  is  in  rags  now,  as  you  see,  and  every- 
thing is  changed,  except  the  company." 

Lord  Ferrers  turned  his  head  and  looked  at  the 
speaker. 

"Canolles!"  he  grunted,  "do  you  know  that  I'm 
more  puzzled  to-night  than  I  ever  was  before  to  know 
one  thing  ? " 

"What  is  that,  Colonel  ?" 

"  To  understand  what  the  devil  ever  made  a  man  of 
your  rank  in  society  turn  marauder !  " 

Canolles  laughed. 

"  My  rank  in  society  ?  I'm  a  mere  swamp  rider,  as 
you  see." 

"  I  see  nothing  of  the  sort — exactly  the  contrary. 
But  all  this  can  be  put  off'  until  after  supper.  I  never 
could  talk  when  the  center  of  my  system  was  in  the 
condition  that  it  is  at  present." 

"  Very  well,  Colonel ;  here  is  something  which  1 
hope  will  revive  you." 


240  CANOLLES. 

Old  William  had  entered  with  a  pile  of  dishes,  all 
of  the  same  exquisite  china;  and  these  contained  an 
old  Virginia  ham,  red  and  juicy,  chickens  fried  and 
stewed,  roast  lamb,  early  peas,  potatoes  and  other  vege- 
tables, and  a  Virginia  hoe  cake. 

"  To  table,  my  guest,"  said  Canolles  ;  "  but  first  try 
and  adopt  our  Virginia  habit  of  an  appetizer." 

He  went  to  a  corner  and  returned  with  two  long- 
necked  bottles  with  dusty  labels. 

"This  is  excellent  Jamaica  rum,"  he  said,  presenting 
one.  "  I  know  it  to  be  ten  years  old — and  this  is  old 
Madeira,  or  at  least  has  attained  its  majority,  as  you 
may  see  from  the  year,  '1759,'  upon  the  label." 

An  expression  of  rapture  passed  over  the  face  of 
Col.  Ferrers. 

"  Rum  ten  years  old  !  and  Madeira  twenty-two  ! "  he 
cried.  "Is  this  scene  a  dream,  then  ?  Or  am  I  in  the 
cave  of  the  Arabian  genii,  where  all  will  flit  ere  one 
can  cry  out  < Hold?'" 

"  Not  in  the  least,  my  dear  Colonel.  You  are  in  the 
White  Oak  Swamp  in  Virginia.  This  is  simply  a  good 
bottle  of  wine  from  my  father's  cellar,  and  nothing 
before  you  will  flit  until  that  imp  of  darkness,  William, 
clears  the  table." 

Canolles  drew  up  the  chairs,  and  they  took  their 
seats,  the  face  of  Col.  Ferrers  glowing  with  the  same 
profound  expression  of  satisfaction.  Old  William  had 
brought  the  glasses  and  fresh  water,  had  opened  the 
wine  and  Jamaica,  and  the  supper  began  and  went 
upon  its  way,  evidently  to  the  extreme  enjoyment  of 
Lord  Ferrers. 


LORD    FERRERS    COMES    TO    THE    POINT.  241 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

IN  WHICH  LORD  FERRERS  COMES  TO  THE  POINT. 

Lord  Ferrers  consumed  his  supper  with  the  deliberate 
gusto  of  an  epicure  not  the  least  in  a  hurry,  and  the 
perseverance  of  a  hungry  soldier.  An  hour  afterward 
it  had  come  to  an  end — the  table  was  cleared,  and  host 
and  guest  were  seated  opposite  each  other  in  the  light 
of  the  two  candles  in  their  silver  candlesticks. 

"  Well,  my  dear  Colonel,  I  hope  you  have  supped  to 
your  satisfaction,"  said  Canolles,  "  or  at  least,  which  is 
much  with  us  soldiers,  have  ceased  to  be  hungry." 

"  Supped  to  my  satisfaction  !  Are  you  making  fun 
of  me,  Canolles  ?  Never  in  the  finest  Paris  cafes  have 
I  supped  as  I  have  supped  to  night!  " 

"  Delighted  to  hear  it  Colonel,"  laughed  Canolles. 

"  Your  i  old  Virginia  ham,'  above  all,  is  past  the 
power  of  words.  How  are  the  animals  fed  wrhich  pro- 
duce that  wonder  ?  What  is  the  secret  of  the  flavor  it 
imparts  ?  It  is  grand — it  is  imperial !  It  is  the  prince 
of  edibles.  Your  lamb  conciliates  respect — but  your 
ham,  my  friend,  arouses  in  me  an  enthusiasm  which  I 
cannot  express." 

"  You  are  good  enough  to  make  flattering  observa- 
tions, and  I  recognize  your  well-known  courtesy,  my 
Lord,"  said  Canolles,  with  a  smile. 

"  Humph  ! "  grunted  Col.  Ferrers,  "  I  am  not  at  all 
16 


242  CANOLLES. 

flattering,  comrade — I  am  just.  As  well  say  that  this 
old  Madeira  I  am  sipping  is  an  ordinary  vintage." 

"  I  believe  that  to  be  good." 

"It  is  superb.  I  have  in  my  time  quaffed  many 
flagons,  comrade ;  but  I  do  not  quaff  a  beverage  like 
this.  I  taste  it  with  the  tip  of  the  tongue  and  the  edge 
of  the  lips,  for  fear  that  I  shall  feel  it  in  my  head  and 
lose  the  flavor. " 

In  fact  the  Colonel,  who  had  only  swallowed  a  single 
mouthful  of  the  strong  Jamaica  rum,  and  then  aban- 
doned it,  had  tasted  his  Madeira  with  the  air  of  a  hum- 
ming bird  hovering  over  a  flower,  apparently  with  the 
apprehension  that  some  of  the  delicate  aroma  would 
escape  him.  And  the  good  wine  had  responded  to 
this  flattering  treatment.  Co-operating  naturally  and 
healthfully  with  the  excellent  supper — partaken  of 
slowly  by  the  old  soldier  with  the  wisdom  of  a  true 
epicure — it  had  warmed  his  faculties,  exhilarated  with- 
out exciting  his  spirits,  and  he  had  evidently  reached 
that  stage  of  physical  well-being  when  the  body  and 
the  mind  are  in  their  most  favorable  condition.  Mirth 
beamed  in  his  eye — good-fellowship  in  the  manner  in 
which  he  hobnobbed  with  Canolles  —  and  with  his 
white  mustache  and  ruddy  face  he  was  the  model  of  a 
jolly  old  militaire  and  gentleman. 

"  Well,  Colonel,'7  said  Canolles,  "  you  must  be  aware 
that  nothing  pleases  a  host  so  much  as  to  have  his 
guest  pleased  with  his  entertainment  Nothing  now 
remains  but  to  inform  you  that  an  escort  will  await 
you  at  daylight — if  you  desire  to  go  so  soon — back  to 


LORD    FERRERS    COMES    TO    THE    POINT.  243 

the  English  pickets ;  and  to  add  that  if  you  are  sleepy, 
your  bed  is  ready." 

"  Sleepy  ? "  said  Lord  Ferrers.  "  What  an  idea !  I 
was  never  more  wide  awake  in  all  my  life,  and  I  mean 
to  cling  to  that  bottle  of  Madeira,  Canolles,  until  I  see 
the  bottom/' 

u  Well,  I'll  assist  you." 

"Like  the  jolly  boy  you  are  !  And  why  not  make 
the  '  winged  hours '  nit  on  with  song?  Come,  give  me 
a  song ;  you  shake  your  head — then  you  shall  hear  the 
favorite  of  the  late  Lord  Ferrers." 

And  in  a  jovial,  rollicking,  and  richly  musical  voice 
the  old  soldier  trolled  forth  the  famous  ditty  beginning : 

"  There  was  a  jolly  beggar, 

And  a  begging  he  was  bound, 
And  he  took  up  his  quarters 
All  in  a  landart  town. 

"  And  we'll  go  no  more  a-wooing, 

A-wooing  in  the  night  ; 
We'll  go  no  more  a-wooing,  boys, 
Though  the  moon  shine  ne'er  so  bright  !" 

Clear,  sonorous,  and  full  of  the  richest  spirit  of  mer- 
riment, rang  out  the  "  loud,  lilting  chorus,"  and  old 
Lord  Ferrers  as  he  sang  was  a  sight  to  see.  He  sat 
with  his  shoulders  thrown  back,  his  stately  old  head 
erect,  his  eyes  laughing,  his  white  mustache  clearly 
relieved  against  the  ruddy  cheeks,  curling  with  the 
mirth  that  shook  his  frame. 

"  Bravo  ! "  cried  Canolles  as  he  ended,  "  what  an  ad- 
mirable tenor  you  have,  my  lord  ! " 


244  CANOLLES. 

"  Ho !  ho  !  now  you  are  flattering  me,  comrade  !  My 
song's  not  equal  to  your  Madeira  by  long  odds!" 

"It  is  admirable !  You  will  sing  me  something 
more,  I  hope — a  song  of  sentiment." 

"  If  you  like.  What  shall  it  be  ?  Stay  !  I'll  sing 
you  something  Fve  not  sung  for  years — it  was  the  fa- 
vorite of  a  person  whom  you  wondrously  resemble." 
The  old  nobleman  uttered  these  words  in  a  voice  of 
deep  sadness,  and  his  head  drooped.  Silence  reigned 
for  some  moments  in  the  cabin,  and  Lord  Ferrers 
seemed  the  prey  of  some  sorrowful  memory.  Then 
slowly,  in  a  deep,  rich,  nearly  tremulous  voice,  he  began 
the  old  Scottish  song,  "  The  Flowers  of  the  Forest," 
which  seems  in  its  long  murmur  full  of  sadness,  like 
the  sig'a  of  the  winds  of  autumn.  As  he  proceeded 
his  tones  grew  sweeter,  sadder,  more  affecting,  and 
penetrated  to  the  heart  of  his  listener.  At  last  the 
song  ended  in  a  long  sigh,  as  it  were,  and  again  there 
was  silence.  Each  of  the  two  men  turned  away  his 
head  to  conceal  the  traces  of  tears ;  those  in  the  eyes 
of  Lord  Ferrers  seemed  to  spring  from  memories  con- 
nected with  the  song,  those  of  Canolles  from  the  pro- 
found effect  produced  upon  his  feelings. 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  old  nobleman,  arousing  him- 
self; "  all  that  is  buried  in  the  grave,  comrade.  It  is 
many  a  year  since  I  sang  that  song.  Your  face  made 
me  sing  it  once  more — looking  at  you  I  think  of  one 
who's  gone — a  boy — whom.  I  loved  more  dearly  than 
all  else  on  this  earth  save  the  mother  that  bore  him. 
Enough — this  unmans  me — let  us  not  speak  further 
of  it." 


LORD    FERRERS    COMES    TO    THE    POINT.  245 

Canolles  bowed  his  head  with  deep  respect,  and  for 
some  moments  the  silence  was  unbroken.  Then,  with 
a  deep  sigh,  Lord  Ferrers  rose  erect  in  his  chair  and 
said  to  the  partisan  : 

"Well,  friend,  I  have  endeavored  to  entertain  you 
with  my  old  cracked  voice — in  your  turn  entertain  me 
or  rather  satisfy  my  curiosity.  Do  you  remember 
when  you  were  at  Petersburg  and  condemned  to  death, 
you  authorized  me  to  read  a  paper  in  which  you  had 
related  the  story  of  your  life  ?  We  are  alone  now — 
tell  me  that  story." 


246  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

HENRY    CARTARET,    OF    CHATSWORTH. 

Canolles,  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  with  one  arm 
extended  upon  the  table  at  his  side,  the  fingers  idly 
thrumming,  for  some  moments  remained  silent.  He 
was  evidently  reflecting.  The  dreamy  eyes  of  the 
partisan  were  plainly  looking  upon  other  scenes,  and 
his  memory  filled  with  figures  belonging  to  the  past. 

He  roused  himself  from  the  reverie  at  last,  and 
seemed  to  think  that  some  apology  for  it  was  due  to 
his  guest. 

"A  bad  and  very  uncourteous  habit  this,  dear 
Colonel,"  he  said ;  "  but  you  will  pardon  me  my  dream. 
Life,  after  all,  is  little  better." 

"I  don't  know,'7  was  Lord  Ferrers'  reply,  in  his 
habitual,  short,  gruff  voice.  "  I've  found  it  devilish 
real,  and  I  thought  you,  the  headlong  partisan  and 
Rough  Rider,  Canolles,  would  have  little  or  nothing  to 
do  with  dreams — reveries. " 

"  A  natural  conclusion,  but  not  correct.  I  am  the 
dreamer  of  dreamers,  and  take  refuge  in  hard  riding 
and  fighting  to  escape  these  dreams." 

"  They  are  not  pleasant,  then  ?  " 

u  They  are  not." 

"  Humph  !  Well,  that  brings  us  back  to  the  main 
point.  Tell  me  your  history — and  observe,  comrade, 
that  I  am  not  making  the  least  apology  for  my  blunt 


HENRY  CARTARET,  OF  CHATSWORTH.       247 

request.  I  liked  you  from  the  moment  I  laid  eyes  on 
you.  I  came  near  cursing  Arnold  to  his  face  as  a  pol- 
troon and  scoundrel  when  he  signed  your  death-war- 
rant. You  are  a  wondrous  likeness,  I've  said,  of  one 
who — has  left  me — no  more  of  that — who  and  what 
are  you  ? " 

Canolles  looked  at  Lord  Ferrers  with  his  old  grim, 
melancholy  smile. 

"  Why  not  go  for  information  to  the  first  person  you 
meet  ?  "  he  said.  "  They  will  tell  you  that  I  am  a  free- 
booter, a  bandit,  a  highwayman — that  I  rob  both  sides, 
and  fight  like  a  free  lance  of  the  middle  ages,  for 
money,  and  only  for  money — so  much  for  the  what  I 
am ;  and  as  to  the  who,  is  it  not  natural  to  adopt  the 
obvious  theory  that  I  am  sprung  from  the  dregs  of  the 
social  cauldron,  that  I  am  'base,  common,  and  popu- 
lar ' — and  fitly  associate  myself  with  the  rough  fellows 
I  command,  my  equals,  save,  perhaps,  in  will  and 
brain?" 

"  A  single  word,  Canolles/'  said  Lord  Ferrers. 
"  Stop  all  that  talk.  Don't  expect  to  fool  old  George 
Ferrers.  If  you  are  a  marauder  you  have  left  your 
social  rank  to  become  one.  What  I  want  to  know 
without  further  parleying  is  who  you  are  and  what 
made  you  adopt  this  wild  idea  of  fighting  under  no 
flag  ?  Will  you  tell  me,  or  will  you  riot  ?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  everything/'  Canolles  replied  with 
his  melancholy  smile.  "  The  story  need  not  be  long, 
which  is  fortunate,  perhaps,  as  it  will  not  be  gay ;  and 
I  no  longer  object  to  speaking  frankly.  You  recall  the 
scene  in  Petersburg  on  the  night  before  my  expected 


248  CANOLLES. 

execution,  when,  regarding  myself  already  as  a  dead 
man,  I  authorized  you  to  read  the  paper  in  which  I 
had  explained  all  that  I  now  propose  to  explain  viva 
voce.  Well,  it  is  a  dead  man  in  another  sense  who 
now  speaks  to  you — a  man  whom  after  to-night  you 
will  probably  never  see  again.  Having  attained  the 
aim  I  had  in  view  in  becoming  a  commandant  of  par- 
tisans, I  have  no  longer  anything  to  induce  me  to  re- 
main in  Virginia,  I  should  before  this  time  have  dis- 
banded my  troops,  but  for  the  satisfaction  of  striking 
at  Col.  Tarleton  for  his  many  outrages.  I  shall  now 
disband  the  men  and  leave  Virginia  forever — hence  I 
may  speak  with  candor,  and  even  desire  to  speak. 
You  have  known  me  as  a  mere  plunderer,  apparently; 
why  not  let  you  know  me  as  a  gentleman  ?  I  must  have 
seemed  to  you  eaten  up  by  a  base  greed  for  gold.  Why 
not  let  you  see  that  of  all  the  treasure  I  have  seized  I 
retain  not  so  much  as  a  single  penny  ?  Why,  in  one 
word,  my  dear  Lord  Ferrers,  should  I  not  open  my 
breast  to  you,  a  faithful  and  devoted  friend,  so  that  in 
going  away  never  to  return,  I  may  not  rest  under  these 
imputations,  but  carry  with  me  at  least  the  good 
opinion  of  a  man  whose  good  opinion  I  value  ? " 

"  You  have  that  now,  don't  doubt  it.  The  devil !  I 
think  you  heard  me  say  what  I  thought  of  you  the 
very  morning  you  were  brought  to  poor  Phillips'  head- 
quarters. Well,  I've  never  wavered  in  that  opinion. 
I  know  as  well  as  I  know  I  am  in  existence  that  there 
is  some  mystery  in  your  past  life — something  other 
than  the  love  of  gold  that  has  made  a  marauder  of  a 
gentleman.  Tell  me  what  it  is — it  is  not  necessary  at 


HENRY    CARTARET,    OF    CHATSWORTH.  249 

all  for  securing  or  retaining  ray  good  opinion.  I  say 
you  have  that.  My  curiosity  is  the  sentiment  I  want 
gratified,  Canolles." 

"  It  shall  be  gratified,  Colonel,"  returned  Canolles, 
"  and  you  will  probably  be  surprised  to  ascertain  how 
very  simply  and  briefly  the  apparent  mystery  of  my 
career  may  be  explained." 

"  I  am  the  eldest  son  of  Henry  Cartaret,  of  Chats- 
worth,  dead  in  poverty  and  exile.  My  name  is  Hartley 
Canolles  Cartaret — the  name  Canolles  being  derived 
from  my  mother,  who  came  of  an  old  French  Huguenot 
family,  emigrants  to  Virginia  for  conscience  sake,  and 
the  name  Hartley  from  your  brother,  the  late  Lord 
Hartley  Ferrers,  to  whom  my  father,  as  you  may  be 
aware,  was  bound  by  ties  of  most  intimate,  almost 
tender  friendship." 

"  I  know  it  well !  Astonishing !  So  you  are  a  son  of 
Henry  Cartaret !  Humph  !  Is  it  possible  ?  Well,  he 
was  not  only  my  friend,  he  was  a  relation  of  ours;  and 
no  doubt  that  accounts  for  your  remarkable  likeness  to 
my  poor  boy.  These  resemblances  often  come  out 
strongest,  at  intervals,  skipping  a  generation  or  gene- 
rations. So  you  are  a  son  of  Henry  Cartaret  ?  " 

"Yes,  but  to  proceed  with  my  story,  Colonel.  I  was 
born  at  Chats  worth,  at  that  time  a  grand  manor,  the 
abode  of  wealth  and  luxury — for  my  father's  posses- 
sions were  large  —  and  here  in  this  good  old  Virginia 
home  I  passed  my  childhood  and  youth  —  a  happy  Vir- 
ginia boy,  loving  everybody,  and  they  say  beloved  by 
all.  My  disposition  was  naturally  mild  and  my  affec- 
tion very  strong.  I  remember  well  what  passionate  grief 


250  CANOLLES. 

I  experienced  at  the  death  of  my  dear  mother  soon 
after  the  birth  of  my  younger  brother,  Harry,  and 
going  back  in  memory  I  now  recall  a  thousand  trifles 
indicating  to  my  mind,  beyond  all  doubt,  that  by  nature 
I  was  intended  for  anything  rather  than  to  take  part  in 
this  dirty  and  bloody  trade  of  war,  to  which,  as  you 
will  see,  I  was  driven  by  outraged  love  and  pride,  which 
I  must  confess  have  made  me  quite  relentless. 

"  For  my  younger  brother  Harry,  whom  you  have 
seen,  I  think,  at  Petersburg,  I  cherished  the  warmest 
affection,  and  this  affection,  thank  Heaven,  has  never 
changed,  nor  has  his  changed  for  me.  Our  likeness  to 
each  other  seemed  to  draw  us  more  closely  together, 
and  I  have  never  known  the  time  when  my  first  instinct 
was  riot  to  interpose  myself  between  him  and  danger, 
as  I  know  it  has  been  his  first  instinct  when  peril 
threatened  me,  an  evidence  of  which  you  had  in  his 
night  attack  to.  rescue  me  when  I  was  condemned  to 
death.  But  warm  as  my  love  was  for  Harry — and 
never  did  brother  love  brother  more  than  I  loved  him  — 
my  devotion  to  my  father  very  far  exceeded  it.  Had 
you  known  him,  my  father,  you  would  easily  have 
understood  this  devotion,  almost  passionate  in  its 
character  and  extent.  Colonel  Cartaret — as  he  was 
called  after  the  Virginia  fashion — was  indeed  a  remark- 
able person.  I  have  encountered  in  my  life,  short  as 
it  has  been,  many  eminent  individuals,  but  none  quite 
up  to  his  moral  and  mental  stature.  He  was  the  soul 
of  sweetness  and  benignity — tall,  erect,  courtly,  with 
the  gentlest  smile  for  every  one  around  him,  and  a  hand 
as  open  as  the  day  to  any  one  in  distress  —  and  in  a 


HENRY    CARTARET,    OF    CHATSWORTH.  251 

circuit  of  twenty  miles  there  was  scarce  a  poor  family 
who  at  some  time  had  not  been  relieved  by  him'  in  their 
hoar  of  need.  To  enter  his  presence  was  like  going 
into  the  sunshine,  and  from  my  earliest  years  I  recall 
his  exquisite  and  caressing  smile.  His  politeness  was 
princely,  and  bestowed  upon  the  low  equally  with  the 
high.  The  poorest  was  as  welcome  in  his  house  as  the 
richest ;  and  he  would  rise  from  his  wine  and  leave  the 
most  elegant  company  to  go  and  listen  to  some  poor 
person  who  came  to  him  for  relief.7' 

"  Yes,  all  that  is  true.  I  knew  Henry  Cartaret  as 
well  as  you  did,"  grunted  Lord  Ferrers. 

"  Then  you  know,  my  Lord,"  continued  Canolles, 
"that  my  father  possessed  other  traits,  also,  than  those 
I  have  noticed.  When  I  said  just  now,  in  referring  to 
him,  that  he  seemed  to  me  to  be  in  some  respects  the 
most  remarkable  person  I  have  ever  known,  I  referred 
to  the  singular  union  in  him  of  the  most  apparently 
incompatible  traits.  Under  this  sweet  and  gentle  ex- 
terior— this  suavity  and  kindness  which  I  have  never 
seen  surpassed — was  not  only  an  intellectual  organi- 
zation of  the  first  order,  but  also  a  very  powerful  and 
obdurate  will,  and  a  temper  which,  once  aroused,  made 
him  a  dangerous  adversary.  I  may  sum  up  this  account 
of  my  father  by  saying  that  he  seemed  to  me  to  be  a 
mixture  of  the  lion  and  the  -lamb  —  up  to  a  certain 
epoch  in  his  life  I  saw  only  the  lamb.  The  day  came 
when  the  lion  revealed  himself." 

Canolles  paused. 

"  Continue,  friend,"  the  old  nobleman  gravely  said, 
"and  be  assured  that  I  take  the  deepest  interest  in  all 


252  CANOLLES. 

that  you  tell  me.  I  see  with  your  eyes,  and  have  before 
me  the  widowed  gentleman,  loving  and  beloved  by  all 
around  him  —  you  and  your  younger  brother,  simple, 
affectionate  country  boys,  like  the  boys  of  our  dear  old 
England — the  great  house  of  Chatsworth,  with  its  ele- 
gant company — all  the  places,  the  faces,  the  members 
of  your  happy  family  group." 

"  There  were  other  members  of  the  group,  my  Lord, 
whom  I  was  about  to  mention — Mrs.  Talbot  and  her 
two  nieces,  distant  relatives  of  the  family.  My  father, 
hearing  some  years  after  the  death  of  my  mother  that 
these  ladies  were  reduced  in  fortune,  invited  Mrs.  Talbot 
and  her  nieces  to  make  their  home  at  Chatsworth. 
They  assented,  became  cherished  members  of  the  house- 
hold, and  they  have  remained  at  the  old  manor  house 
up  to  the  present  time,  even  after  the  alienation  of  the 
property  and  my  father's  death — of  which  circumstance, 
with  others,  you  shall  have,  in  a  few  moments,  an  ex- 
planation." 

Again  Canolles  paused  and  his  eyes  assumed  the  old 
dreamj7  look;  but  they  slowly  filled  with  blood,  his 
swarthy  face  was  slightly  tinted  with  color,  and  a  latent 
flush,  as  it  were,  came  from  beneath  the  dark  eyelashes. 

"  I  now  come  to  the  main  substance  of  my  narra- 
tive," he  said,  the  tone  of  his  voice  growing  stern, 
almost  harsh,  as  he  proceeded.  "  The  political  agitation 
heralding  the  present  armed  struggle  began,  and  young 
as  I  was  at  that  time — the  year  1765 — I  well  remem- 
ber the  general  excitement.  My  father  was  a  member 
of  the  House  of  Burgesses,  and  as  he  had  taken  me 
with  him  on  a  visit  to  Williamsburg,  the  capital,  I  was 


HENRY    CARTARET,    OF    CHATSWORTH.  253 

a  personal  witness  of  the  celebrated  debate  on  the 
Stamp  Act.  Mr.  Henry  offered  some  resolutions  which 
aroused  a  storm,  since  they  distinctly  declared  that  the 
Virginia  Burgesses  alone  had  the  right  to  tax  Virginia. 
This  was  regarded  by  many  members  as  an  open  de- 
fiance of  Parliament,  and  the  resolutions  were  bitterly 
opposed  by  some  of  the  greatest  patriots  of  the  day, 
as  premature  and  injudicious.  My  father  came  to 
Henry's  support,  and  advocated  the  resolutions  in  a 
speech  of  passionate  eloquence.  I  still  remember  the 
fire  of  his  eyes,  and  the  grandeur  of  his  appearance, 
as  he  drew  himself  to  the  full  height  of  his  tall  stature, 
exclaiming:  i  Treason?  Does  the  gentleman  seriously 
characterize  these  resolutions  as  treason  ?  Treason 
against  whom  or  what?  Against  the  King  of  En- 
gland ?  It  is  not  the  King  of  England  who  taxes  the 
colonies  !  Against  a  body  of  country  gentlemen  call- 
ing themselves  the  House  of  Commons,  or  a  body  of 
titled  gentlemen  calling  themselves  the  House  of 
Lords  ?  I  have  yet  to  learn  that  a  subject  can  be  guilty 
of  treason  against  a  subject !  The  resolutions  before 
the  House  declare  that  the  Burgesses  of  Virginia  alone 
have  the  right  to  tax  Virginia,  since  in  the  House  of  Bur- 
gesses of  Virginia  alone  are  the  people  of  Virginia  re- 
presented. Is  that  true  or  false  ?  If  it  be  true,  the 
resolutions  ought  to  pass.  I  am  conservative  in  my 
views,  sir.  I  love  England  next  to  my  own  country, 
but  I  would  rather  lay  my  head  on  the  block,  so  help 
me  God, t than  shrink  from  asserting  the  just  rights  of 
my  native  country — Virginia ! ' 
,  "I  have  given  you  nearly  the  exact  words  uttered  by 


254  CANOLLES. 

Col.  Cartaret.  I  cannot  convey  the  proud  accents  of 
the  loyal  voice,  pleading  passionately  for  the  assertion 
of  right.  The  resolutions  passed — largely,  I  am  sure, 
from  the  effect  of  my  father's  speech — and  he  was  re- 
garded from  that  time  by  Mr.  Henry,  and  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son afterwards,  as  an  ardent  revolutionist,  bent  on 
effecting  a  separation  between  the  colonies  and  the 
mother  country.  Any  such  desire,  however,  was  ut- 
terly absent  from  his  breast.  He  loved  England  with 
all  his  heart — her  ancient  Church  establishment,  her 
social  fabric  of  class,  her  ancestral  glories — her  poets, 
statesmen,  law-givers  were  his — and  with  his  far-seeing 
glance  he  saw  that  the  new  regime  would  overthrow  all, 
from  turret  to  foundation,  inaugurating  upon  the  ruins 
of  the  fabric  toppled  down  an  equalizing  democracy 
which  would  sweep  before  it,  like  a  torrent,  all  the 
debris  of  the  old  world  of  his  affections.  Of  this  he 
spoke  to  me  often,  pointing  out  the  tendency  of  the 
moment  toward  separation.  One  day  when  Col. 
Washington,  now  the  great  leader  of  the  colonies,  was 
at  Chatsworth — it  was  about  the  year  1774, 1  believe — 
they  sat  over  their  wine  conversing  upon  political 
affairs,  and  I  recall  as  distinctly  as  though  it  had  been 
yesterday,  that  both  gentlemen  absolutely  agreed  with 
each  other  in  reference  to  a  separation  from  the  mother 
country,  Col.  Washington  expressing  himself  upon  the 
subject  in  terms  so  strong  and  tones  so  animated  that 
it  was  plain  he  regarded-  such  a  severance  with  abso- 
lute repugnance,  and  never  dreamed  that  events  could 
render  it  necessary. 

"I  grow  tedious,  perhaps,  my  Lord — but  this  preface 


OF    CHATSWORTH.  255 

was  essential  to  a  just  comprehension  of  the  events 
which  I  am  now  about  to  relate.  Col.  Cartaret,  after 
serving  in  the  Burgesses,  took  no  further  part  in  pub- 
lic affairs  until  the  opening  of  the  present  conflict,  re- 
maining at  home  and  passing  his  time  in  what  he  loved 
better  than  all  else,  the  supervision  of  his  estate — for 
he  was  passionately  devoted  to  country  life.  He  enter- 
tained a  great  deal  of  company,  and  among  this  com- 
pany were  some  of  the  first  statesmen  of  the  epoch — 
Mr.  Edmund  Pendleton,  Mr.  Edmund  Randolph,  Mr. 
George  Mason,  and  others,  who  agreed  with  him  in 
every  particular,  and  looked  with  unconcealed  regret 
upon  the  possibility  of  being  forced  to  a  separation  and 
war  with  England.  You  knew  Col.  Cartaret,  my 
Lord,  and  must  be  aware  that  his  political  opinions 
were  not  based  upon  personal  considerations.  He  was 
quite  superior,  I  need  scarcely  say,  to  any  such  weak- 
ness, and  in  advocating  as  he  did  moderate  action  in- 
stead of  precipitation,  was  actuated  by  a  very  high 
sense  of  duty  and  a  true  love  for  his  country — about  to 
be  plunged  into  a  bloody  and,  as  he  thought,  unneces- 
sary conflict  in  pursuit  of  a  fancied  good  which  he 
firmly  believed  would  turn  out  a  deplorable  evil.  J)o 
you  say  that  he  was  mistaken — that  America  is  about 
to  gain  her  end  ?  Xery  well,  my  Lord.  To  each  his 
opinion.  This  continent  will  doubtless  become  the 
seat  of  a  great  democracy;  a  mighty  empire  of  the 
people — success  to  it — but  leave  Col.  Cartaret,  who  has 
sealed  his  opinions  by  poverty,  exile  and  death,  his  at- 
tachment for  England,  the  home  of  his  family,  the  old 
constitutional  monarchy,  essentially  a  republic,  which 


256  CANOLLES. 

has  proved  the  sole  bulwark  against  absolute  govern- 
ment on  the  continent  of  Europe. 

"Well,  the  year  1776  came.  The  fire,  which  had 
been  so  long  smouldering  broke  forth.  The  country 
was  convulsed  from  one  end  to  the  other,  and  the  Gen- 
eral Congress  found  itself  called  upon  by  the  ardent 
revolutionists  to  formally  decree  a  separation  between 
England  and  the  colonies.  Of  this  Congress  my  father 
was  a  member.'7 


WHAT    HAD    TAKEN    PLACE    IN    CONGRESS.  257 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

WHAT    HAD    TAKEN    PLACE    IN    CONGRESS. 

"  Col.  Cartaret  had  accepted  the  appointment  of  del- 
egate to  the  General  Congress  with  the  greatest  reluc- 
tance and  only  after  long  hesitation.  He  was  well 
aware  that  his  opinions  were  not  in  unison  with  those 
of  the  great  men  of  the  community,  and  that,  instead 
of  proving  of  any  service,  he  would  only  embarrass 
the  body  in  the  action  they  were  now  plainly  bent  on 
taking. 

"  These  opinions  were  fully  stated  to  the  gentlemen 
who  brought  the  appointment.  The  reply  was  brief; 
the  people  of  Virginia  were  willing  to  trust  to  the  ac- 
tion of  the  man  who  had  supported  Henry  in  '65.  Col. 
Cartaret  then  said  that  until  the  further  development 
of  events  nothing  should  induce  him  to  vote  for  a  de- 
claration of  separation  from  England,  and  consequently 
formal  war  between  the  countries.  The  response  was 
that  the  gentlemen  of  the  Burgesses  left  Col.  Cartaret 
and  all  her  delegates  wholly  untrammeled.  His  action 
would  be  taken,  unless  he  was  distinctly  instructed,  in 
accordance  with  his  own  views  of  the  interest  of  the 
colony ;  and  overcome  at  last,  Col.  Cartaret  accepted 
the  appointment  and  repaired  to  Philadelphia,  where 
in  the  summer  of  1776,  as  you  are  aware,  my  Lord, 
the  great,  passionate,  bitter  struggle  soon  began  on  the 
question  whether  the  colonies  should  or  should  not  de- 
17 


258  CANOLLES. 

clare  themselves  independent  states  and  make  war  on 
England  formally  to  support  their  declaration. 

"  I  come  now  to  the  vital  portion  of  my  narrative — 
to  the  incidents  which  drove  my  father  from  this 
country,  to  sink,  eventually,  a  sorrow-stricken  man, 
into  his  grave.  He  never  wavered  in  his  opinions  to 
the  last;  but  the  bread  of  exile  is  bitter,  and  the 
chords  of  his  great  heart  snapped  under  the  strain. 

"  The  sittings  of  Congress  were  often  secret,  and  no 
record  was  made  of  many  of  the  most  passionate  debates 
— the  body  indulging  a  natural  apprehension  that,  in 
the  event  of  failure,  certain  persons  would  be  singled 
out  by  the  British  Government  as  ringleaders,  and 
made  to  suffer  for  their  action.  This  was  notably  so 
in  the  case  of  the  resolutions  offered  by  Mr.  Lee,  that 
the  colonies  should  declare  themselves  independent — 
neither  the  name  of  the  mover  or  seconder  having 
been  entered  on  the  journals. 

"  I  have  scarce  sufficient  equanimity,  my  Lord,  to 
enable  me  to  protract  my  account  of  what  now  occurred 
in  connection  with  Col.  Cartaret.  He  remained  obdu- 
rately unconvinced  of  the  propriety  of  a  declaration  at 
the  moment.  That  the  necessity  for  such  a  proceeding 
might  arise  he  acknowledged — it  was  even  probable 
that  the  country  would  be  driven  by  events  to  take  that 
step.  But  a  formal  separation  and  declaration  of  war 
were  not  yet  necessary,  he  urged  ;  and  if  any  possibility 
remained  to  avoid  that  course,  it  was,  he  said,  incum- 
bent on  the  Congress,  as  a  body  of  statesmen  and 
patriots,  not  to  act  under  the  influence  of  passion,  but 
spare  the  country,  if  possible,  the  fearful  effusion  of 


WHAT    HAD    TAKEN    PLACE    IN    CONGRESS.  259 

blood  which  must  ensue.  These  views  he  advanced 
with  all  the  powers  of  his  passionate  eloquence,  and 
for  many  days,  during  which  the  bitter  conflict  of 
opposing  opinions  went  on  night  and  day,  Col.  Car- 
taret  found  at  his  back  a  powerful  party,  which  shared 
his  views. 

"  In  support  of  this  statement,  if  it  requires  any  sup- 
port, take  the  expression  used  on  his  return  to  Virginia 
by  Mr.  Jeiferson,  that  this  powerful  opposition  to  the 
Declaration  at  that  time  resembled  the  ceaseless  action 
of  gravity,  weighing  upon  us  by  night  and  by  day.  I 
give  you  his  exact  words,  of  which  I  am  accurately 
informed ;  and  they  will  serve  to  dissipate  the  fancy, 
widely  prevalent  at  this  time,  that  there  was  in  the 
Congress  no  wide  divergence  of  opinion.  There  was 
a  bitter  difference,  on  the  contrary,  and  Col.  Cartaret 
was  the  leader  of  the  party  for  deferring  action  until 
the  prospect  before  the  country  was  clearer. 

"  Hour  by  hour,  however,  the  sentiment  of  the  body 
in  favor  of  prompt  action  grew  stronger,  and  Col. 
Cartaret,  finding  that  any  further  struggle  was  useless, 
abandoned  the  contest,  and,  retiring  to  a  seat  in  a 
remote  part  of  the  hall,  listened  in  silence  whilst  the 
desultory  debate  yet  continued.  He  was  not  permitted 
to  retire  in  peace.  Smarting  under  the  lash  which 
Col.  Cartaret  had  more  than  once  applied  to  him  in 
debate,  a  delegate,  as  remarkable  for  his  personal 
insignificance  as  for  his  flippant  and  reckless  harangu- 
ing day  after  day,  singled  his  now  silent  adversary  out 
as  the  mark  of  his  denunciation.  I  will  not  repeat  the 
insulting  expressions  of  this  person,  of  which  my 


260  CANOLLES. 

father  informed  me  afterwards.  It  is  enough  to  say 
that  every  base  motive  was  attributed  to  him — personal 
absence  of  nerve,  apprehension  that  the  cause  would 
fail  and  that  he  would  lose  his  estate,  and  the  speaker 
even  intimated  that  British  gold  was  at  the  bottom  of 
the  action  of  the  gentleman  from  Virginia.  Can  you 
imagine  anything  more  insolent  than  that,  my  Lord," 
said  Canolles,  with  knit  brows  and  the  old  dangerous, 
latent  flash  of  the  eye,  "  to  charge  Henry  Cartaret,  of 
Chatsworth,  with  personal  apprehension — to  attribute 
to  him  the  apprehension  of  pecuniary  loss — and  to  hint 
that  he  had  been  bought?  Well,  there  was  something 
still  worse  behind,  as  you  will  discover.  When  his 
adversary  had  taken  his  seat,  Col.  Cartaret  rose,  and, 
beginning  his  reply  with  the  words,  'Mr.  Speaker, 
who  is  that  person  ? '  proceeded  to  utter  what  has  been 
described  to  me  as  the  most  bitter  and  powerful  speech 
of  the  Congress.  There  can  be  little  question  that  the 
tone  of  it  was  injudicious,  and  that  Col.  Cartaret 
regretted  in  calmer  moments  the  phraseology  employed, 
if  not  the  sentiments  uttered.  The  result  was  to 
enrage  the  more  ardent  revolutionists,  and,  to  end  my 
account  of  this  painful  scene,  a  resolution  strongly 
denunciatory  of  the  sentiments  and  expressions  of  one 
of  the  delegates  from  Virginia  was  offered,  promptly 
seconded,  and  passed  by  the  House,  as  indignant  at  the 
tone  of  my  father's  reply  as  he  had  been  at  the  attack 
made  upon  him  in  the  first  instance. 

"  The  result  of  this  scene,  which  took  place  in  secret 
session,  was  that  Col.  Cartaret  at  once  resigned  his 
seat  in  Congress;  the  resignation  was  accepted,  and  he 


WHAT    HAD    TAKEN    PLACE    IN    CONGRESS.  261 

returned  to  Chatsworth  without  having  voted  either 
for  or  against  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  He 
promptly  reported  to  the  Virginia  Convention,  then  in 
session,  the  details  of  his  course  in  Congress,  and  the 
Convention  took  no  action  upon  the  paper,  laying  it  on 
the  table.  This  my  father,  in  his  indignant  mood,  at 
the  moment  profoundly  resented — and  although  Mr. 
Pendleton  and  other  eminent  friends  assured  him  that 
the  gentlemen  of  the  Convention  retained  unanimously 
the  highest  sense  of  his  untarnished  honor,  and  would 
not  even  investigate  the  subject,  Col.  Cartaret  would 
not  accept  this  non-action  as  just,  and  retired  to  Chats- 
worth,  whence,  a  year  or  two  afterwards,  after  mort- 
gaging his  estate,  he  went  to  England,  where,  worn 
out  with  the  passionate  conflict  into  which  his  consci- 
entious opinions  had  placed  him,  he  soon  afterwards 
died." 

"  After  refusing,"  said  Lord  Ferrers,  "  the  honor  of 
Knighthood  and  the  Governorship  of  Jamaica,  with  a 
salary  of  £20,000  a  year." 

"  I  thought  it  useless  to  recall  that  circumstance  to 
your  mind,  my  Lord,  as  my  father's  refusal  to  accept 
rank  or  emolument  in  his  situation  was  natural. 
Indeed,  all  his  sympathies  were  with  the  colonies,  and 
he  expressed  them  freely.  He  refused  to  return  to 
America — although  urged  incessantly  to  do  so  by 
friends  in  Virginia — from  a  sentiment  most  powerful 
with  him,  pride.  He  had  acted  in  Congress  from  the 
highest  motives  of  public  duty,  with  the  good  of  the 
country  and  that  alone  at  heart.  The  result  had  been 


262  CANOLLES. 

a  public  and  official  insult  inflicted  upon  him  by  the 
Congress— and  this  he  never  forgave." 

"  And  he  was  right,"  growled  Lord  Ferrers.  "  These 
civilians — curse  'em  ! — never  tolerate  a  difference  of 
opinion,  and  throw  mud  at  people  who  won't  think  as 
they  think!  I'd  like  to  have  a  regiment  of  'em  under 
my  command,  but  they  never  get  near  enough  to  know 
the  smell  of  gunpowder.  Well,  now,  Canolles,  tell  me 
about  yourself,  and  your  own  story." 


COL.    FERRERS    PROPOSES    A   TOAST.  263 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

HOW    COL.    FERRERS    PROPOSED    A   TOAST. 

Canolles  slowly  passed  from  indignation  to  melan- 
choly, and  uttered  a  deep  sigh. 

"  I  need  not  consume  much  time  in  speaking  of  my- 
self, my  Lord,"  he  said  sorrowfully, "  and  there  are  some 
circumstances  connected  with  my  career  since  the  death 
of  my  father  which  I  regret  not  to  be  ahle  to  refer  to 
even  to  so  true  a  friend  as  yourself.  With  the  exception 
of  these  I  shall  use  no  concealment,  and  tell  you  frankly 
my  motives  in  entering  upon  a  course  of  partisan  war- 
fare without  the  pale  of  the  American  flag. 

"  When  these  events  occurred  I  was  just  entering 
upon  manhood,  and  my  father's  exile  embittered  my 
whole  life.  My  attachment  to  him  had,  as  I  have  in- 
formed you,  been  the  master  sentiment  of  my  being,  and 
I  could  not  forgive  the  American  cause  the  wrong  in- 
flicted by  the  American  Congress.  Nothing  would  in- 
duce me  to  join  the  Continental  forces,  although  Harry 
did  so  promptly  under  the  effect  of  the  war  fever.  I  re- 
mained at  Chatsworth  moping  and  unhappy,  and  was 
fast  settling  down  into  a  confirmed  misanthrope.  For 
this  there  were  other  reasons — I  am  unable  to  state  them 
at  this  moment.  I  can  only  inform  you  that  I  fell  into 
a  deep  melancholy,  and  shrunk  from  the  sight  of  a  hu- 
man face  even." 


264  CANOLLES. 

"  But  your  cousins — those  handsome  young  ladies — 
were  still  at  Chatsworth,  eh?"  said  Lord  Ferrers. 

"Yes,"  said  Canolles,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Faith  !  I  think  they  are  worth  looking  at." 

Canolles  made  no  reply  and  Lord  Ferrers,  looking 
keenly  at  him,  suddenly  felt,  as  by  a  species  of  instinct, 
that  something  in  connection  with  one  of  the  young 
ladies  must  have  occasioned  in  part  the  melancholy 
alluded  to  by  his  companion.  At  once  his  high  breeding 
came  to  his  relief,  and  he  said : 

"  But  I  am  interrupting  you,  comrade.  Go  on  with 
your  story — telling  me  what  you  please  and  no  more 
than  you  please." 

Canolles  inclined  his  head  as  though  accepting  this, 
and  said  : 

"  Well,  my  Lord,  I  was  moping,  as  I  said,  at  Chats- 
worth,  and  day  by  day  grew  more  melancholy.  All  the 
good  fortune  of  the  Cartarets  seemed  to  be  reversed.  My 
father  was  dead  in  exile,  the  estate  of  Chatsworth  was 
hopelessly  mortgaged,  I  was  a  waif,  an  estray,  a  poor 
sorrowful  youth,  prevented  even  from  seeking  in  the 
career  of  arms  some  distraction  from  my  melancholy, 
and  the  future  had  in  it  no  ray  of  light  or  comfort. 
From  this  apathy  I  was  at  last  aroused.  Harry  came 
home  wounded,  and  for  some  months  was  confined  to  his 
bed,  his  poor,  pale  face  full  of  suffering,  as  it  was  full  of 
sweetness.  I  have  said  that  next  to  my  father  he  was 
the  nearest  to  my  heart.  I  loved  him  indeed  with  all 
my  soul — and  when  he  returned  to  the  army,  as  he  soon 
did,  I  had  formed  my  resolution.  I  was,  I  said  to  my- 
self, a  poor  useless  creature,  of  no  good  to  myself  or 


OOL.    FERRERS    PROPOSES    A    TOAST.  265 

others  ;  why  not  change  my  whole  life  and  make  myself 
of  some  benefit — to  Harry  ?  I  was  the  eldest  son,  and 
the  Chatsworth  estate,  if  ever  relieved  of  the  mortgage, 
would  be  my  property.  But  why  should  I  look  for- 
ward to  that,  or  care  ?  I  was  utterly  unhappy — cared 
naught  indeed  for  my  life — but  there  was  my  dear 
Harry,  the  very  reverse  in  all  things  of  myself.  To  ex- 
plain— he  was  and  is  still  engaged  to  the  younger  of  my 
two  cousins,  Miss  Fanny  Talbot ;  and  if  I  could  only  do 
something  to  redeem  the  property,  give  it  to  Harry, 
and  then  take  my  melancholy  face  out  of  sight,  then 
Harry's  future  would  be  full  of  sunshine,  and  I  should, 
after  all,  have  done  some  good  in  the  world. " 

"  I  understand! "  grunted  Lord  Ferrers. 

"  How  to  effect  the  redemption  of  the  estate  was  the 
question,"  continued  Canolles.  "  The  mortgage  amount- 
ed to  nearly  twenty-five  thousand  pounds  sterling  in 
gold,  and  it  was  doubtful  if  that  much  coin  could  be 
found  in  all  Virginia — certainly  I  had  no  means  of  pro- 
curing it,  no  security  to  offer  for  any  such  loan." 

"  Aha!"  said  Lord  Ferrers.  "  I  now  begin  to  under- 
stand !  You  formed  the  project  of  effecting  your  loan 
from  Gen.  Phillips,  eh?" 

"  Precisely,  my  Lord,"  replied  Canolles,  the  grim 
smile  replacing  the  melancholy,  "and  I  set  about  the 
negotiation  without  delay.  I  have  said  that  nothing 
could  have  induced  rne  to  fight  for  a  cause  whose 
authorities  had  insulted  and  outraged  my  father;  but  I 
was  far  from  having  any  objection  to  making  war  on 
the  British  if  they  invaded  Virginia,  my  native  coun- 
try, and  after  my  father  and  my  brother,  my  first  and 


266  CANOLLES. 

last  love.  In  a  word,  the  plan  which  I  now  formed,  and 
soon  carried  out,  was  to  raise  a  troop  of  partisans,  in- 
flict all  the  injury  possible  upon  the  invaders  of  Vir- 
ginia soil,  and,  as  an  offset  to  these  public  services, 
appropriate  to  myself  any  captured  property,  to  be 
converted  into  money — which  money  I  designed 
promptly  to  pay  to  a  Mr.  Atwell,  the  holder  of  the 
mortgage  on  Chatsworth,  and  so  redeem  the  estate. 
Not  for  myself,  I  repeat — for  my  brother,  who  I  may 
inform  you  is  at  this  moment  the  undisputed  owner  of 
the  estate,  wholly  unincumbered." 

"And  a  devilish  fine  property  too? "  laughed  Lord 
Ferrers  ;  "  but  go  on,  comrade." 

"  I  had  no  difficulty,"  continued  Canolles,  "  in  carry- 
ing on  my  plan.  I  had  a  large  acquaintance  among  a 
certain  class  along  the  river — hunters,  fishermen  and 
other  rough  but  brave  and  trusty  young  fellows.  In  a 
word,  Colonel,  I  raised  my  troop,  established  my  head- 
quarters here  in  the  White  Oak  Swamp,  and  dropping 
my  full  name  to  call  myself  simply  Capt.  Canolles,  have 
been  making  war  for  some  months  on  my  private 
account  under  no  flag  but  my  own.  Of  course,  this 
proceeding  is  irregular,  and  I  have  secured  the  repute 
of  a  marauder;  am  even  reported,  although  it  is  the 
purest  calumny,  to  make  war  on  both  sides — but  I 
risk  my  person  and  fight  man  to  man,  often  against 
odds,  to  free  Virginia  from  the  public  enemy.  Am  I 
a  bandit?" 

Lord  Ferrers  burst  into  laughter. 

"  You  are  a  soldier,  and  a  devilish  cool  one,  com- 
rade— and,  speaking  for  myself,  I  approve  with  all  my 


COL.    FERRERS    PROPOSES    A    TOAST.  267 

heart  of  your  motives  and  course — that  is,  old  George 
Ferrers  does.  Colonel  Ferrers,  of  course,  regards  you, 
officially,  as  an  outlaw." 

"  Very  well ,  Colonel,"  said  Canolles,  a  ghost  of  a  smile 
flitting  across  his  face  in  response  to  the  broad  merri- 
ment on  the  ruddy  countenance  of  Lord  Ferrers,  "  and 
now  I  believe  I  have  come  to  the  end  of  my  narrative. 
Thanks  to  the  army  chest  of  Gen.  Phillips,  which  I 
have  had  recourse  to  upon  two  occasions,  I  have  dis- 
charged the  mortgage  on  Chatsworth ;  transferred  the 
title  of  the  entire  estate  to  Harry ;  and  he  now  has  the 
paper  in  his  possession.  Thus  my  work  is  done  and  I 
disappear.  I  scarcely  know  whither  I  shall  go,  or  what 
career  is  before  me.  I  shall  fall  in  some  foreign  war, 
no  doubt.  I  only  know  that  I  am  going  to  leave  Vir- 
ginia, never  to  return  to  it.  I  shall  at  least  have  the 
happiness  of  knowing  that  my  brother  is  happy.  The 
war  is  about  to  end,  I  think;  this  seems  to  be  the  last 
campaign — Harry  will  marry  his  cousin  and  keep  up 
the  family'  at  Chatsworth — and  so  all  ends,  you  see, 
Colonel.  The  sun  will  shine  again  on  our  good  old 
home — on  a  bridegroom  and  bride  bearing  the  name  of 
Cartaret — and  the  poor  marauder  Canolles  will  have 
the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  it  is  he  who  has 
brought  back  the  sunshine  !  " 

The  partisan  smiled,  but  the  tones  of  his  voice  were 
profoundly  sad ;  and  Lord  Ferrers,  with  his  keen  ear 
and  eye,  had  little  difficulty  in  understanding  that  his 
companion  was  a  prey  to  the  deepest  melancholy. 

"  Well,  well,"  the  partisan  added,  "  I  have  told  you 
a  long  and  very  sad  story,  have  I  not,  friend  ?  But  life 


268  CANOLLES. 

is  almost  always  sad.  Let  us  now  rest.  You  must  be 
weary  from  remaining  so  long  in  the  saddle.  There  is 
your  bed.  Old  William,  you  see,  has  improvised  one 
for  me  also."  • 

"  Not  before  I  give  you  a  toast,  Canolles  ! "  exclaim- 
ed Lord  Ferrers,  emptying  into  his  glass  the  remnants 
of  wine  in  the  bottle  which  he  had  promised  to  cling 
to  until  he  saw  the  bottom. 

"  A  toast,  my  Lord  ?  "  said  the  partisan,  sadly. 

"  The  health  of  a  friend  I  esteem  as  a  soldier  and 
gentleman ! " 

And  raising  his  glass  above  his  head,  the  white-mus- 
tached  nobleman  exclaimed  : 

"I  drink  health  and  long  life  to  the  marauder. 
Canolles  !  " 


THE    ROUUH    RIDERS.  269 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    ROUGH    RIDERS. 

With  the  explanation  given  by  Canolles  of  the  mo- 
tives actuating  him  in  entering  upon  his  eccentric  ca- 
reer, and  his  resolution  to  disband  his  troop  and  leave 
Virginia,  the  drama  aiming  to  set  forth  his  fortunes 
might  be  supposed  to  terminate — or  if  not  to  terminate, 
to  reach  one  of  those  convenient  halting  places  where 
so  many  writers  bid  their  personages  farewell,  leaving 
the  sequel  of  the  drama  to  the  reader's  imagination. 

But  the  writer  of  these  pages  is  unwilling  to  close 
so  abruptly  his  narrative,  and  dismiss  with  so  little 
ceremony  the  children  of  his  fancy — the  brave  parti- 
san, the  bluff  old  English  soldier,  and  Walter,  Lucy, 
Fanny  and  the  rest.  These  persons  are  not  shadows 
merely  to  him,  as  perchance  they  may  be  to  the  reader; 
phantoms  only,  like  the  evanescent  shapes,  the  flitting 
forms  we  see  at  twilight,  when  each  bush  is  a  figure, 
each  rustle  of  the  leaves  the  whisper  of  some  living 
thing.  They  are  rather  real  personages  of  flesh  and 
blood,  with  their  loves  and  hatred,  their  joys  and  sor- 
rows, their  tears  and  their  laughter,  living  actual  lives, 
and  not  mere  dream  lives  in  the  fine  domain  of  Fancy- 
land  ! 

So,  may  it  please  the  friendly  reader,  we  are  not  go- 
ing to  abandon  Capt.  Canolles  and  the  stories  of  his 
fortunes.  Other  adventures  remain  to  be  related.  All 
does  not  end  with  the  explanation  of  his  aversion  to 


270  CANOLLES. 

espousing  the  Continental  cause,  and  the  attraction  ex- 
ercised over  him  by  British  gold.  The  writer  even 
ventures  to  vaguely  intimate  that  in  the  life  of  the  par- 
tisan there  was  still  a  secret — a  sentiment  which  he 
guarded  carefully,  even  from  his  friend  Lord  Ferrers, 
and  this  will  be  set  forth  now  in  a  few  concluding 
pages,  which  will  aim  also  to  narrate  some  additional 
scenes  in  which  the  chief  persons  of  this  drama  were 
the  actors. 

In  spite  of  their  long  conversation  and  late  sitting  up 
in  the  hut  in  White  Oak  Swamp,  Lord  Ferrers  and 
Canolles  awoke  with  the  first  gleam  of  daylight  glim- 
mering through  the  tangled  thickets,  and  went  out  to 
breathe  the  morning  air — cool  and  fresh  from  its  pas- 
sage over  the  surrounding  water  and  under  the  dense 
shade  of  the  intertangled  foliage. 

There  was  nothing  longer  to  detain  the  old  soldier 
at  the  quarters  of  Canolles,  as  he  was  not  in  any  sense 
a  prisoner;  and  learning  from  his  guest  that  he  desired 
to  return  at  once  to  the  British  army,  camped  on  the 
Chickahominy  a  few  miles  distant,  the  partisan  left  him 
to  go  to  the  bivouac  of  the  Rough  Riders  and  detail  an 
escort. 

He  was  absent  for  an  hour  nearly,  and  on  his  return 
exhibited  unwonted  emotion.  He  had  been  detained 
by  the  necessity  of  making  arrangements  for  carrying 
out,  on  this  day,  the  resolutions  he  had  formed  to  ter- 
minate his  connection  with  the  brave  fellows  whom  he 
had  so  long  commanded.  We  shall  not  describe  the 
scene,  or  the  emotion  of  his  old  companions  at  this  an- 
nouncement, which,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  all  knew 


THE    ROUGH    RIDERS.  271 

of  their  captain's  determination,  filled  them  with  the 
deepest  sorrow. 

Canolles  retained  with  difficulty  his  own  self-posses- 
sion. He  repressed  his  feelings,  however ;  directed  a 
division  between  the  men  of  his  command  of  all  the 
'camp  contained,  reserving  nothing  for  himself;  and, 
having  informed  the  partisans  that  he  would  see  them 
again  and  issue  his  last  orders  to  them,  tore  himself 
away,  with  a  flush  in  his  cheeks  and  a  moisture  in  his 
eyes  which  they  had  never  before  seen. 

Old  William  had  prepared  breakfast,  and  Lord  Fer- 
rers proved  himself  as  mighty  a  trencherman  as  on  the 
night  before.  Canolles  ate  nothing,  and  hearing  with- 
out the  hut  the  tramp  of  horses,  rose  from  table. 

"  There  is  your  escort,  my  Lord,"  he  said,  "awaiting 
your  good  pleasure.  I  ordered  ten  men  to  report  here 
under  your  young  aide,  Walter  Hayfield,  and  conduct 
you  as  a  guard  of  honor  to  the  British  picket  line." 

"And  you " 

"  I  go  with  you,  as  a  matter  of  course.  Believe  me, 
I  should  always  regret  and  reproach  myself  for  having 
lost  this  hour  of  your  company." 

"  Devilish  fine  fellow  ! "  grunted  Lord  Ferrers  half 
inaudibly,  "  how  can-a  man  help  liking  such  a  brave  as 
this  who  talks  so  ?  " 

"  You  say,  my  Lord; — " 

"  I  say,  I  am  ready." 

They  buckled  on  their  arms,  left  the  hut,  and  mount- 
ing their  horses  set  out  at  the  head  of  the  roughly  clad 
detachment,  which  Lord  Ferrers  had  greeted  with  a 
curt  nod  of  friendly  recognition,  for  the  English  pick- 
ets. 


272  CANOLLES. 

The  ride  took  place  nearly  in  silence.  Each  seemed 
busy  with  his  own  thoughts,  and  a  few  words  only  were 
exchanged.  At  last  they  emerged  from  the  swamp, 
entering  upon  a  tract  of  open  ground,  beyond  which  a 
long  line  of  lofty  trees,  festooned  with  wild  honey- 
suckle and  other  forest  creepers,  indicated  the  course 
of  the  sluggish  river.  To  their  left,  at  the  edge  of  a 
clump  of  trees,  a  figure  on  horseback,  motionless  in 
the  morning  light,  was  visible. 

"  There  is  your  vidette,  I  think,  my  Lord,"  said 
Canolles,  "and  the  picket  is  near." 

"Yes." 

"  Then  we  must  part  here,  as  it  is  not  my  intention 
to  charge  your  redcoats,  and  I  do  not  wish  them  to 
charge  me." 

"Yes,  we  must  say  good-bye,  and  I  repeat  to  you, 
Canolles,  that  I  um  devilish  sorry  to  do  so — on  my 
honor?" 

"  And  I,  my  Lord  ;  but  you  know  the  adage,  '  The 
best  friends  must  part,  as  the  longest  day  must  end.' ' 

Lord  Ferrers  remained  motionless,  knitting  his 
white  mustache  and  looking  at  Canolles  with  a  long, 
lingering  regard,  in  which  it  was  easy  to  read  his  emo- 
tion. The  partisan,  too,  had  fallen,  it  seemed,  into  one 
of  his  moods  of  dreamy  reverie.  'Suddenly  he  aroused 
himself  and  said : 

"  Yes,  yes,  my  Lord  !  this  parting  is  sorrowful,  very 
sorrowful  to  myself,  since  it  is  more  than  doubtful 
whether  we  shall  ever  meet  again.  It  is  my  intention, 
as  I  informed  you,  to  disband  my  troop  at  once  and 
leave  Virginia,  which  I  now  -regard  as  virtually  freed 


THE    ROUGH    RIDERS.  273 

from  occupation  by  the  English  forces,  since  Lord 
Cornwallis  is  retiring  after  declining  battle,  and  is 
known  to  intend  transferring  his  army  to  the  North. 
So  I  shall  have  no  solicitude  as  to  my  good  old  State, 
and  go  with  an  easy  conscience.  There  are  your 
friends  yonder ;  you  have  only  to  wave  your  handker- 
chief on  the  point  of  your  sword,  and  ride  into  your 
lines.  Farewell,  my  Lord ;  health  and  happiness 
attend  you." 

" Thanks! "  said  Lord  Ferrers,  gruffly,  "  but  do  you 
know  there  is  one  thing  I  don't  in  the  least  believe, 
Canolles?" 

"  What's  that,  my  Lord?" 

"  That  we  are  not  going  to  meet  in  future." 

"It  is  improbable." 

"I'll  lay  you  a  hundred  to  one  we  do  !  At  least  it 
depends  on  you.  Come  and  see  me  in  England.  The 
war,  I  agree  with  you,  is  virtually  over,  and  I'll  not  be 
sorry  to  go  home  again — not  in  the  least.  Come  and 
see  me,  I  say,  comrade,  at  my  home  in  Hertfordshire." 

"  Such  a  visit,  I  need  not  assure  you,  would  be  a 
happiness  to  me,  but  I  shall  not  probably  be  in  Eng- 
land." 

"You  are  going  to  the  Continent?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Give  up  this  idea,  Canolles,  and  stay  at  home  at 
your  house  of  Chatsworth." 

"  That  is  no  longer  my  own." 

"  Marry,  I  say,  and  settle  down,  and  abandon  this 
wild  project  of  exiling  yourself.  Exile  is  bitter,  com- 
rade." 


274  CANOLLES. 

"  Bitter  enough,  I  have  little  doubt — like  life.  But 
I  do  not  wish  to  remain  in  Virginia.  Something  ban- 
ishes me — let  me  keep  my  own  counsel  as  to  that — and 
now,  my  Lord,  if  you  will  not  say  farewell,  let  it  be  '  to 
our  next  meeting.' ' 

"  Good !     That's  the  way  to  talk  ! " 

And  exchanging  with  Canolles  a  close  grasp  of  the 
hand,  accompanied  by  a  look  which  indicated  the 
deepest  interest  in  his  companion,  Lord  Ferrers  rode 
to  the  English  picket,  made  himself  known,  and  entered 
the  British  lines — the  partisan  returning  with  his  de- 
tachment toward  his  bivouac  in  the  Swamp. 

On  the  way  he  gave  Walter  Hayfield,  who  rode  be- 
side him,  his  last  instructions. 

"I  shall  disband  the  Eough  Riders  this  evening, 
Walter,"  he  said,  "  but  they  are  one  and  all  determined 
to  join  the  regular  American  forces,  and  I  wish  them 
to  become  a  part  of  Harry's  command,  which  they, 
too,  desire.  You  must,  therefore,  ride  to  the  Ameri- 
can camp  and  inform  Harry  that  I  am  about  to  transfer 
my  troop  to  him,  to  have  the  men  at  once  enrolled." 

"  And  you,  Captain  ?" 

"I?" 

" You  are  going?" 

"  Yes,  I  shall  leave  Virginia." 

The  boy's  head  sank. 

"  Why  not  yourself  enter  the  American  army  in 
command  of  your  own  troop?" 

Canolles  slowly  shook  his  head,  and  the  youth 
seemed  to  feel  that  all  argument  was  unavailing. 

"  But,  Captain  ! — think,"  he  faltered,  "you  cannot 


THE    ROUGH    RIDERS.  275 

go  off  in  this  way  at  a  moment's  notice  !  You  must 
have  arrangements  to  make — persons  to  bid  farewell, 
and  your  passage  abroad  to  secure  if  you  go  by  sea,  as 
I  understand  you  design." 

"  As  to  securing  a  passage,  yes,"  said  Canolles ;  "as 
to  delaying 'to  bid  anyone  good-bye,  no !  There  is 
nothing  further  to  detain  me,  and  I  shall  see  no  one." 

"Not  even " 

Walter  hesitated,  with  flushed  cheeks  and  a  sudden 
moisture  in  his  eyes. 

"  Even — you  would  say  ?  " 

"  Miss  Fanny,"  said  Walter ;  "it  would  break  her 
heart  for  you  to  go  without  bidding  her  good-bye." 

"  Fanny ! — break  her  heart ! — your  words  are  idle, 
Walter !  "  Canolles  exclaimed  with  sudden  emotion. 

"  Oh,  no,  Captain,  they  are  not  idle.  I  have  told 
you  once  before,  and  tell  }~ou  once  again,  that — shall  I 
go  on  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Canolles  in  a  low  tone,  "  you  are  dream- 
ing— and  if  what  you  say,  absurd  as  it  is,  had  the 
soundest  reason  in  it,  that  would  only  be  another  ob- 
stacle in  the  way  of  an  interview.'  No,  I  shall  not  see 
her,  or  any  one.  I  shall  go  with  old  William  to  the 
Glen  Lodge,  where  I  shall  remain  for  two  or  three  days 
while  making  my  few  arrangements." 

"  The  Grlen  Lodge  ?  You  mean  the  hunting  lodge, 
near  Chatsworth  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  small  lodge  built  by  my  father  for  enter- 
taining hunting  parties  of  guests — a  secluded  spot,  you 
know,  sylvan  and  hidden — where  I  shall  not  be  discov- 
ered by  any  one.  After  seeing  Harry  you  will  report 


276  CANOLLES. 

to  me  here ;  if  I  am  not  here,  then  I  shall  be  at  the 
Glen  Lodge.  You  will  march  the  men  to  Harry's 
camp  at  once.  That  is  plain,  is  it  not,  dear  Walter? " 

"Yes,  Captain!"  the  boy  murmured  with  a  sob, 
"  only  too  plain  !  Oh!  why  do  you  go  ?  " 

Canolles  smiled  sadly. 

"  '  It  is  written/  as  the  Orientals  say,"  he  replied, 
"  and  now  let  us  speak  no  further  of  this ;  I  am  heavy- 
hearted  to-day." 

They  soon  reached  the  Swamp  island,  and  Walter 
set  out  on  his  mission  to  Harry  Cartaret,  to  notify  him 
that  the  troopers  would  immediately  offer  themselves 
for  enrollment  under  the  American  flag.  Canolles  then 
gave  his  orders  to  old  William,  who  quietly  and  in  si- 
lence collected  his  master's  personal  effects,  including 
the  silver  service  brought  from  Chats  worth,  and  stowed 
them  in  bags  on  a  pack-horse.  Then,  as  the  light  of 
evening  began  to  steal  over  the  Swamp,  Canolles  as- 
sembled the  men. 

This  intention,  as  we  have  seen,  had  been  announced 
to  them.  His  blow  at  Tarleton,  he  had  informed  them, 
would  be  the  last  that  he  would  strike.  Each  and  all 
had  promptly  assented  to  his  proposal  that  they  should 
become  a  part  of  the  command  of  his  brother;  and 
having  informed  them  that  Walter  would  conduct 
them,  after  his  departure,  to  the  American  camp,  he 
went  along  the  line,  grasping  the  hand  of  every  man 
of  the  troop  in  turn. 

The  scene  was  picturesque  and  full  of  emotion.  The 
long  shadows  of  approaching  sunset  ran  through  the 
Swamp,  and  the  red  light  fell  upon  the  rude  faces  of 


THE    ROUGH    RIDERS.  277 

the  Rough  Riders,  many  of  them  bathed  in  tears,  which 
had  a  strange  look  on  the  bearded  cheeks.  It  was 
plain  that  this  parting  with  their  beloved  leader  sent  a 
pang  through  the  hearts  of  the  rough  fellows  who  had 
fought  with  him  so  often.  Canolles  himself  was  not 
exempt  from  agitation.  The  faces  before  him  were  as- 
sociated in  his  memory  with  scenes  of  desperate  com- 
bat, sword  to  sword,  with  night  marches,  forest  biv- 
ouacs— with  perils  shared  together  and  martial  merri- 
ment and  rejoicing  by  the  camp  fire  in  the  Swamp. 
Every  man  was  a  close  personal  acquaintance,  even  a 
friend — for  Canolles  had  been  rather  the  chief  of  a 
hunting  party  than  an  officer  in  command  of  troops. 
The  parting  was  thus  painful  to  him,  too ;  and  it  was  not 
without  a  tremor  in  his  firm  voice  that  he  bade  them 
in  a  few  soldierly  words  farewell. 

The  parting  was  one  in  which  Canolles  seemed  to 
feel  that  he  could  not  trust  himself  longer,  and  waving 
his  hand,  he  mounted  his  horse,  and  followed  by  old 
William  on  his  pack  animal,  was  soon  lost  to  sight. 

As  he  disappeared  the  men  burst  forth  into  cheers 
which  rang  through  the  Swamp,  and  must  have  startled 
the  pickets  of  the  two  armies  posted  near. 

It  was  the  farewell  of  the  Rough  Riders  to  their  be- 
loved commander. 


278  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

WHAT    TOOK    PLACE    ON    THE    SAME    NIGHT. 

When  this  scene  was  taking  place  in  the  Swamp 
bivouac,  Walter  Hayfield  was  far  on  his  way  to  the 
American  camp. 

Fortune  favored  him.  A  detachment  of  the  Vir- 
ginia Light  Horse  was  stationed  at  the  forks  of  the 
road  which  he  approached,  and  hearing  the  challenge 
of  the  man  on  post,  an  officer,  who  had  been  lying  un- 
der a  tree  fifty  paces  distant,  rose  and  came  forward. 
Walter  recognized  Harry  Cartaret,  who,  recognizing 
the  youth  in  turn,  called  out  to  the  sentinel  to  pass  him 
through  the  picket. 

"  I  thought  I  knew  you,  Walter,"  said  the  gay  young 
officer,  as  the  youth  rode  up. 

"  And  I  was  at  first  a  little  doubtful  whether  you 
were  yourself  or  not,  Lieutenant,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Harry,  "  in  this  old  coat,  you 
mean." 

In  fact  the  young  man,  who  usually  appeared  in  a 
fine  full  dress  uniform,  gaily  decorated  with  gold  braid, 
wore  on  this  evening  the  shabbiest  of  old  undress  coats, 
entirely  divested  of  any  insignia  of  rank,  faded,  dingy, 
and  covered  with  dirt.  In  this  equipment  the  dazzling 
young  Lieutenant  Harry  Cartaret  was  almost  unrecog- 
nizable. He  resembled  rather  a  Rough  Rider  than  an 
American  officer,  and  Walter  was  struck  suddenly  by 


WHAT    TOOK    PLACE    ON    THE    SAME    NIGHT.  279 

the  exact  resemblance  he  bore  in  dress  as  in  face  to 
Canolles. 

Harry  beckoned  the  youth  toward  the  tree  where  he 
had  been  lying  down,  and  said  : 

"Well,  I  am  rather  a  shabby-looking  fellow  to-day, 
Walter ;  dress  goes  for  a  great  deal  in  this  world,  I 
confess,  and  that  is  why  I  am  in  this  old  coat." 

"Why,  Lieutenant?" 

"  In  order  to  keep  my  best  uniform  for  fighting  and 
— visiting  the  fair  sex!  You  see  a  man  ought  to  dress 
in  his  best  when  he  goes  into  action,  so  that  in  case  he 
is  captured  he  will  be  treated  with  consideration,  and 
not  thrust  into  a  dirty  guard-house  with  the  rank  and 
file." 

"Eight,  Lieutenant." 

"And  need  I  explain  my  motive  in  reserving  my 
braided  uniform  for  that  other  agreeable  occupation — 
visiting  young  ladies  ?  If  it  is  well  to  be  in  full 
dress  when  you  go  to  fight,  is  it  not  as  rational  to  wear 
your  very  finest  coat  when  you  advance  upon  that  other 
and  more  dangerous  enemy  in  furbelows  and  flounces, 
ready  to  exterminate  you  with  the  flashing  artillery  of 
their  eyes  ? " 

"  I  understand,  Lieutenant." 

"  So,  to  wTind  up  this  interesting  explanation,  Walter, 
I  am  here  on  a  mere  fatigue  duty,  looking  out  for 
stragglers,  and  I  wear  my  shabbiest  coat — so  shabby 
that  I  might  be  taken  for  a  follower  of  a  certain  worthy 
Capt.  Canolles  !  But  we  have  talked  enough  on  this 
point.  Sit  down  here  by  me  and  tell  me  what  brought 
you?" 


280  CANOLLES. 

Walter  threw  his  bridle  over  a  bough,  and  taking  a 
seat  near  Harry,  said  : 

"  I  came  to  see  you,  Lieutenant." 

"To  see  me?" 

"Yes,  Lieutenant.'7 

Harry  Cartaret  for  the  first  time  observed  the  deep 
sadness  in  the  face  and  voice  of  his  companion,  and 
said,  anxiously: 

"  You  came  from  Hartley  ?  You  bring  bad  news. 
Tell  me  what  it  is !  " 

"  Good  and  bad  news  both,  Lieutenant.  You  may 
think  a  part,  at  least,  is  good  news — it  is  all  bad  to  me. 
Capt.  Canolles  has  by  this  time  disbanded  the  Rough 
Riders,  and  is  going  to  leave  Virginia — never,  as  he 
says,  to  come  back." 

Walter  then  described  the  capture  of  Lord  Ferrers, 
how  he  had  been  released  and  escorted  back  to 
the  English  lines,  and  how  Canolles  had  then  announced 
his  resolution  in  the  evening  to  terminate  his  connec- 
tion with  the  partisan  troop,  who  one  and  all  would 
report  to  him  (Harry  Cartaret)  for  enrollment  under 
the  American  flag. 

At  this  intelligence  the  face  of  the  young  oflicer 
filled  with  pleasure,  and  he  rose  quickly  to  his  feet. 

"Thank  Heaven!"  he  exclaimed.  "This  fighting 
without  a  flag  has  preyed  on  my  spirits  day  and  night ! 
Now  there  will  be  no  more  of  it !  Hartley  will  no 
longer  be  in  danger,  if  he  is  captured,  of  being  shot  as 
a  marauder,  as  he  nearly  was  at  Petersburg !  Thank 
Heaven  that  he  has  come  to  this  resolution,  and  sends 
me  his  brave  fellows !  Oh  !  yes,  I  will  enroll  them — 


WHAT    TOOK    PLACE    ON    THE    SAME    NIGHT.  281 

they  are  a  magnificent  present !     They  will  be  a  full 
company,  and  I  shall  be  commissioned  captain,  too  !  " 

"  I  will  bring  them  here  to-night,  Lieutenant." 

"Oh,  no!  I  will  go  and  see  Hartley  and  receive 
them  in  person !  This  moment,  Walter — this  very 
moment !  There  is  nothing  going  on  in  this  quarter ; 
I  can  easily  leave  a  subordinate  in  my  place  for  a  few 
hours." 

As  he  spoke,  Harry  Cartaret  went  quickly  to  his 
horse,  which  was  tied  to  a  bough,  rode  to  where  the 
men  of  his  detachment  were  lying  beside  their  horses, 
a  little  in  rear,  and  having  given  his  orders,  returned 
to  Walter,  when  they  both  set  out  at  full  gallop  in  the 
direction  of  the  island  in  the  Swamp. 

On  the  way  the  young  lieutenant  asked  a  hundred 
questions,  particularly  inquiring  in  reference  to  the 
intended  movements  of  Canolles  after  leaving  the 
Rough  Riders.  Walter  could  only  inform  him  that  the 
partisan  had  stated  his  intention  of  leaving  Virginia  in 
a  few  days,  perhaps  in  two  or  three;  and  that  mean- 
while he  designed  taking  up  his  lodging  in  the  small 
deserted  hunting  lodge  on  the  Chats  worth  estate. 
Harry  listened  with  earnest  attention  and  some  sadness 
to  this  account,  making  no  comment  until  Walter  had 
finished  speaking.  He  then  said  : 

"  Well,  the  main  thing  is  that  this  irregular  and 
dangerous  fighting  without  a  flag  has  come  to  an  end. 
As  to  Hartley's  leaving  Virginia,  we  will  see  about 
that.  Time  enough  for  me  to  see  him  before  he  takes 
ship.  The  Rough  Riders  first!  How  far  is  it  to  the . 
camp,  Walter?" 


282  CANOLLES. 

"  Less  than  a  mile,  Lieutenant.  Here  we  are  at  the 
Swamp." 

They  penetrated  the  thicket  just  as  the  twilight  was 
deepening  into  night ;  but  the  moon  was  shining,  and 
they  had  no  difficulty  in  threading  their  way  through 
the  devious  paths,  all  of  which  were  well  known  to  the 
young  lieutenant's  companion.  At  last  the  moat-like 
circuit  of  water  surrounding  the  Swamp  fastness  ap- 
peared; they  plunged  through,  and  Harry  Cartaret, 
accompanied  by  Walter,  found  himself  in  the  midst  of 
the  Rough  Riders.  They  were  nearly  one  and  all  per- 
sonally known  to  him,  as  they  had  been  recruited  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Chatsworth,  and  the  young  man 
had  in  old  days  been  a  favorite  with  them  from  his  gay 
and  cordial  disposition  and  his  fondness  for  their  own 
occupation  of  hunting  and  fishing.  At  his  appearance, 
therefore,  they  received  their  future  commander  with 
a  shout  of  welcome,  and  in  ten  minutes  Harry  had 
made  them  a  speech,  they  had  expressed  their  desire 
to  serve  under  him,  and  preparations  were  made  for  a 
prompt  march  to  the  American  camp. 

Harry  Cartaret  had  looked  around  for  Canolles  as 
soon  as  he  reached  the  island.  He  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen,  and  he  was  soon  informed  that  the  partisan  had 
left  them  more  than  an  hour  before,  going  no  one 
knew  whither.  Harry  rode  with  Walter  to  the  hut 
which  had  been  the  headquarters  of  his  brother.  It 
was  open,  melancholy  and  deserted.  The  moonlight 
falling  through  the  window  lit  up  the  rude  table  at 
which  Lord  Ferrers  and  Canolles  had  supped. 

"  A  body  without  the  soul!"  mattered  the  young 


WHAT    TOOK    PLACE    ON    THE    SAME    NIGHT.  283 

man,  "but,  thank  Heaven!  Hartley  will  hide  himself 
here  no  more  !  " 

Returning  to  the  bivouac  they  found  the  partisans 
ready  to  march,  every  man  with  his  sword  buckled 
around  his  waist  and  his  rude  wrappings  behind  his 
saddle,  and  at  the  word  of  command  they  fell  into 
column,  and  Harry,  with  Walter  beside  him,  gave  the 
word,  "  Forward  !  " 

At  the  word  the  column  began  to  move  slowly,  and 
descended  into  the  water,  through  which  they  denied 
in  a  long  line — dusky  phantoms  in  the  dim  moonlight. 

Walter  had  advised  that  the  troop  should  proceed  to 
the  American  camp  by  another  and  better  road  than 
that  which  he  and  Harry  had  followed  in  coming. 
This  led  in  a  direction  somewhat  nearer  to  the  British 
lines  than  was  desirable ;  but  confiding  in  their  perfect 
knowledge  of  the  locality,  and  their  good  broadswords > 
the  Rough  Riders  moved  on  without  solicitude,  and 
soon  emerged  from  the  thicket  on  a  broad  flat  space 
covered  with  broom-sedge,  waving  now  in  the  gentle 
night  wind. 

Suddenly  Walter  laid  his  hand  on  Harry  Cartaret's 
arm,  and  wrhispered : 

"  Hist! who  are  those  yonder,  Lieutenant ?" 

"  Those  dark  figures  coming  out  of  the  woods  ?  " 

He  pointed  quickly  to  a  dusky  mass  moving  toward 
them  with  muffled  hoof  strokes. 

"  Yes,"  said  Walter. 

"  The  enemy  !"  exclaimed  Harry  Cartaret.  "  They 
are  after  us  ! " 

And  turning  to  the  Rough  Riders  he  shouted  : 


284  CANOLLES. 

"  Form  fours  !     Draw  broadswords  !     Charge  ? " 

A  loud  voice  from  the  dusky  mass  was  heard  giving 
nearly  the  same  order,  and  the  two  columns  rushed  to- 
gether— that  of  the  British  evidently  far  outnumbering 
the  body  of  Rough  Riders. 

Cartaret  crossed  swords  with  the  leader  of  the  Eng- 
lish, a  short,  thick-set  officer,  riding  a  powerful  horse, 
who,  dropping  his  rein  as  they  came  together,  drew  a 
pistol  and  fired  almost  in  Harry  Cartaret's  face. 

The  flash  lit  up  like  a  quick  lurid  glare  the  entire 
person  of  the  young  American,  and  Tarleton — for  the 
leader  of  the  English  was  that  officer — uttered  a  sud- 
den shout  of  joy. 

"  Canolles  ! "  he  cried,  "  I  am  in  luck  to-night !  I 
came  to  hunt  you,  my  dear  Captain  Canolles !  to  pay 
you  my  respects  in  return  for  hunting  me  !  I  have  you, 
my  good  Canolles,  my  worthy  freebooter  without  a 
flag !  and  at  sunrise,  if  I  do  not  kill  you,  you  will  swing 
from  the  gallows  with  a  hempen  cravat  around  your 
neck!" 

These  words  were  shouted  between  every  clash  of 
the  broadswords.  Colonel  Tarleton  was  evidently  con- 
vinced that  Harry  Cartaret,  in  his  plain,  rough  dress, 
and  commanding  the  Rough  Riders,  was  no  less  a  per- 
sonage than  Canolles. 


AT    GLEN    LODGE.  285 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

AT    GLEN    LODGE. 

It  was  the  evening  succeeding  these  scenes.  The 
sun  was  just  setting,  and  his  last  beams  full  upon  the 
sylvan  building  called  Glen  Lodge,  which  stood  in  a 
picturesque  hollow  in  the  hills  less  than  a  mile  from 
Chatsworth.  This  house,  as  the  reader  has  been  in- 
formed, had  been  built  by  Mr.  Henry  Cartaret  for  the 
convenience  of  hunting  parties  and  for  woodland  festi- 
vities. Many  a  youth  and  maiden  had  wandered 
through  the  grassy  grounds,  or  seated  themselves  on 
the  rustic  chairs  beneath  the  great  oaks ;  and  under 
the  roof  many  an  excellent  repast — presided  over  by 
old  William  in  respectful  silence — had  been  partaken 
of  by  the  bright  beauties  and  the  gay  gallants  of  the 
years  preceding  the  war;  beauties  whose  golden  hair 
was  dashed  with  silver  now  from  long  and  cruel  anxiety; 
gallants  who  had  exchanged  their  lace,  embroidery  and 
ruffles  for  rude  home-spun  coats,  to  shoulder  the  mus- 
ket or  buckle  on  the  broadsword  and  follow  Washing- 
ton. 

The  sunset  fell  lovingly  on  the  little  chalet — it  was 
scarcely  rude — which,  lost  under  overhanging  boughs, 
seemed  dreaming  still  of  the  merry  fetes  champetres  it 
had  looked  on  in  the  past.  The  windows  of  its  three 
or  four  small  apartments  were  closed  by  shutters,  with 
the  exception  of  the  main  room  on  the  ground  floor, 


286  CANOLLES. 

opening  on  the  graceful  verandah,  with  its  slender, 
airy-looking  pillars  —  and  into  this  apartment  now 
plunged  the  last  rays  of  sunset,  lighting  up  the  dilapi- 
dated furniture,  which  had  never  been  removed — a 
table,  some  chairs,  and  a  wicker  work  lounge  compris- 
ing the  whole. 

The  spot  was  utterly  deserted.  A  little  stream  ran 
rippling  at  the  foot  of  a  knoll  near  by,  disturbing  with 
its  murmurs  the  sweet  silence  of  evening.  This  sound 
and  the  "  cheef-cheef"  of  some  Swamp  sparrows  set- 
tling to  their  rest  in  the  foliage,  was  all  that  gave  life 
to  the  quiet  scene,  which  otherwise  might  have  been 
taken  for  some  painting,  full  of  the  charm  of  rustic 
silence,  loneliness  and  beauty. 

The  sun  had  just  descended  to  the  summit  of  the 
western  woods,  and  was  poised  on  the  verdant  fringe 
like  a  golden  shield,  when  the  loneliness  of  the  scene 
was  dissipated  by  the  appearance  of  a  figure  at  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  grounds,  coming  on  slowly  toward  the 
sylvan  chalet 

Fanny — for  it  was  our  little  heroine — had  strolled 
out  from  Chatsworth,  with  no  object  but  to  find  in 
solitude  an  opportunity  to  indulge  undisturbed  in 
reverie ;  and  more  by  chance  than  from  design  had 
found  herself  in  the  vicinity  of  Glen  Lodge,  which  she 
was  quite  familiar  with.  The  spot  she  supposed  to  be 
entirely  deserted,  as  it  had  been  for  years,  and  there 
were  indeed  no  traces  whatever  of  the  presence  of  any 
human  being.  Canolles,  who  had  reached  the  lodge 
on  the  preceding  evening,  had  ridden  away  to  make 
arrangements  for  his  voyage  to  Europe  ;  and  old 


AT    ULEN    LODGE.  287 

William,  his  henchman,  was  either  asleep  in  a  small 
outbuilding,  or  had  gone  to  see  his  friends  at  houses  in 
the  neighborhood. 

The  spot  was  then  as  lonely  and  deserted  as  if  Canolles 
had  never  returned  to  it.  Fanny,  coming  on  slowly, 
with  her  fair  face  drooping  toward  her  bosom,  her  eyes 
half  closed,  and  veiled  by  the  long  silken  lashes,  a  wild 
flower  in  her  hand  and  one  in  her  hair,  resembled  some 
fairy  genius  of  the  spot,  as  beneficent  and  kind  as  she 
was  beautiful. 

For  a  long  time  now  Fanny  had  fallen  into  low  spir- 
its. What  was  the  origin  of  this  depression  ?  Youth 
should  bring  happiness,  but  Fanny,  although  young, 
was  evidently  not  happy.  The  roses  in  her  cheeks  had 
turned  to  snowdrops,  and  the  mobile  lips,  though  red 
still,  had  about  them  that  downward  curve  which  indi- 
cates the  presence  of  some  weight  upon  the  heart. 
But  the  beauty  of  the  girl  was  even  more  exquisite 
than  before,  and  as  she  entered  the  small  hunting  lodge 
and  stood  in  the  mild  light  of  evening,  gazing  around 
her  with  dreamy  eyes,  nothing  more  fascinating  could 
be  imagined  than  her  face  and  figure. 

Unconsciously,  and  as  though  slightly  fatigued,  she 
looked  around  for  a  seat,  and  saw  the  wicker  lounge. 
She  seated  herself,  placed  her  elbow  upon  the  curved 
arm,  rested  her  bent  head  on  the  palm  of  the  hand, 
and  closing  her  eyes  gave  herself  up  evidently  to 
musing. 

The  beautiful  eyes  had  closed  by  the  will  of  their 
owner ;  but  very  soon  it  was  plain  that  they  remained 
shut  without  further  exercise  of  volition.  Weary  in- 


288  CANOLLES. 

deed  from  her  long  walk,  and  yielding  to  the  languid 
summer  evening,  with  its  drowsy  influences,  Fanny  had 
fallen  gently,  or  rather  glided,  into  slight  slumber,  as 
easily  and  unconsciously  as  a  dove  that  folds  its  wings 
at  twilight. 

Light  as  her  sleep  was,,  she  did  not  hear  the  hoof 
strokes  of  a  horse  on  the  grass  without,  or  a  step  on 
the  portico.  The  step  drew  nearer,  crossed  the  thresh- 
old, resounded  on  the  bare  floor — and  then  Fanny 
woke  with  a  start.  Canolles  was  standing  before  her 
in  the  light  of  sunset,  looking  at  her. 

His  face  was  sad  and  quite  pale  under  the  bronze 
produced  by  sun  and  wind.  His  head  drooped,  and 
his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her  with  an  expression  of 
such  melancholy  that  her  own  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  You,  Fanny !  "  he  said  in  a  low  tone ;  "  you  here ! " 

"  And  you  !  " — she  murmured ;  "  how  do  I  find  you 
at  Glen  Lodge,  Hartley?  I  thought  you  were  in  the 
Swamp  with  your  Rough  Riders. " 

Canolles  shook  his  head  slowly,  in  the  manner  habit- 
ual with  him. 

"  I  have  left  the  Rough  Riders.  They  are  disbanded, 
and  my  life  as  a  soldier  has  ended." 

"  Ended  !  Oh !  how  glad  I  am !  And  now — now— 
you  are  coming  home !  " 

The  partisan  repeated  the  movement  of  his  head. 

"  I  am  going  away.  In  three  days  I  shall  leave  Vir- 
ginia, Fanny." 

"  Leave  Virginia !  Why  do  you  leave  Virginia,  all 
your  friends — your  dear  old  home — all  you  love,  and — 
those  who  love  you  ?  " 


AT    GLEN    LODGE.  289 

"  I  must.  Let  me  not  speak  of  it,  Fanny.  It  is  sad 
enough  to  give  up  all,  but  I  shall  have  the  consolation 
of  knowing  that  I  leave  happiness  behind  me." 

Fanny  could  not  suppress  her  tears.  The  accent  of 
the  speaker's  voice  was  so  unutterably  sad  that  as  she 
listened  to  it  her  head  drooped,  her  cheeks  were  bathed 
in  tears,  and  her  bosom  heaved  with  an  agitation  which 
she  was  plainly  unable  to  control. 

"Happiness?"  she  murmured  in  a  voice,  faltering 
and  stopping  as  it  were  at  every  syllable;  "  happiness? 
Do  you  think — that  I  am  happy  ?  " 

"Why  should  you  not  be?"  was  the  response  of 
Canolles  in  a  voice  nearly  as  low  as  her  own.  "  You 
are  young,  beloved,  the  war  is  nearly  ended,  and — shall 
I  go  on  ?  " 

She  made  no  reply. 

"  You  are  the  affianced  of  one  of  the  noblest  young 
fellows  that  ever  lived — my  dear  Harry,  who  loves  you 
with  all  his  heart." 

The  head  bent  lower — the  pale  face  grew  a  little 
paler. 

uHe  will  soon  come  back  to  you  now,"  Canolles 
went  on;  "you  and  he  will  be  Lord  and  Lady  of 
Chatsworth,  Fanny " — he  attempted  to  smile — "and 
will  represent  the  Cartarets  in  our  old  home.  Is  it 
possible  that  he  did  not  tell  you  that  we  had  so  ar- 
ranged our  family  affairs  ?  We  have  succeeded  in  re- 
lieving the  estate  from  all  debts  and  incumbrances,  and 
as  I  am  called  away,  my  dear  Harry  naturally  takes  my 
place,  and  supports  the  family  name — with  you  to  aid 
him." 

19 


290  CANOLLES. 

Still  the  head  drooped  lower,  the  face  grew  paler. 

"  You  do  not  speak,  Fanny/'  he  went  on,  "  indeed 
— you  seem  unwell.  Have  I  said  anything  to  wound 
you  ? — to  hurt  your  feelings  ?  I  would  not  do  so  for  all 
the  world.  You  know  that!  You  know — how  much 
— how  much  I  love  you!  I  am  going  now.  Let  us 
part  loving  each  other ;  that  at  least  I  have  the  right  to 
ask,  as  I  am  leaving  you,  never,  perhaps,  to  see  you 
again  !  " 

His  voice  trembled,  and  his  very  frame  shook.  His 
lips  opened,  and  he  was  about  to  speak  again,  but  only 
a  quick  exclamation  came  from  them.  The  slender 
form  of  the  girl  swayed  like  a  lily  beaten  by  the 
wind,  her  eyes  closed,  and  she  fell  forward,  fainting, 
into  the  arms  of  Canolles. 

#  #  *  *  *  -;-  * 

Half  an  hour  afterward  they  were  seated  side  by 
side,  and  the  tears  and  smiles  and  blushes  of  the  girl, 
with  the  happy  light  in  her  companion's  eyes,  told 
clearly  that  the  two  hearts  had  spoken. 

Suddenly,  in  a  moment,  all  the  old  misunderstanding 
had  disappeared.  Canolles  knew  now  that  Fanny  had 
loved  him  "  long  and  dearly,"  and  she  knew,  too,  that 
he  had  been  about  to  leave  Virginia  forever  in  conse- 
quence of  a  hopeless  passion  for  her. 

"  Then  I  need  not  go  now  !  "  he  said,  looking  with  a 
proud  smile  and  eyes  full  of  profound  tenderness  at  the 
beautiful,  shy  face,  "  I  may  stay  in  Virginia  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes — why  should  you  not?  "  she  whispered,  in 
her  innocent,  true  voice.  "  And  so  you  thought  that 
Harry  and  I  were  still  engaged  ?  But  I  forgot  that 


AT    GLEN    LODGE.  291 

you  could  not  have  known  we  only  yesterday  had  an 
explanation.  I  discovered  long  since  that  I  had  quite 
mistaken  my  feelings,  and  was  very  wretched.  I  was 
about  to  write  and  tell  him  so,  when  he  came,  and  I 
found  that  he  too  was  not  happy — did  not  wish  to 
marry  me ;-  and,  do  you  know  why  ?  " 

She  laughed  through  her  tears — it  was  the  hearty 
laugh,  full  of  sunshine.  . 

"  Because  Miss  Lucy  Maurice  had  taken  my  place — 
my  friend  whom  he  met  at  Petersburg." 

Canolles  listened  with  an  expression  of  joy  and  won- 
der which  made  his  face  radiant. 

"  Miss  Maurice  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  the  young  friend 
you  stayed  with  when  you  came  to  save  me !  Who 
would  have  dreamed  of  such  a  result,  Fanny  ?  Oh, 
yes  !  you  saved  me  twice,  not  once  only,  by  your  brave 
ride  !  You  saved  my  life  and — my  love  !" 

She  turned  away  her  head. 

•"  You  loved  me  first !  that  paper  told  me  every- 
thing— how  noble  you  were  in  giving  up  all  to  Harry ! 
— me  with  the  rest,  because  you  thought  he  loved  me ! 
Now  I  know  all — and — and — how  could  I  keep  from — " 

The  sentence  ended  in  a  murmur. 

*  *  .          #  *  #  #  * 

Thus  these  two  faithful  hearts  had  spoken  at  last, 
and  all  was  cleared  up.  A  portion  only  of  the  happy 
colloquy  has  been  here  recorded.  Such  scenes  are  not 
for  the  garish  day  and  the  eyes  of  readers  who  would 
perhaps  laugh  if  we  were  to  set  down  all  this  man  and 
woman  said  to  each  other,  agitated,  wondering,  trem- 
bling almost,  under  the  weight  of  their  new  and  unex- 


292  CANOLLES. 

pected  happiness.  It  had  taken  only  a  little  time  to 
explain  all — now,  not  the  least  shadow  of  misunder- 
standing remained — Canolles  was  riot  going,  he  would 

remain  in  Virginia,  and  Fanny  would  be  his  own. 

*  #  #  #  *  #  * 

When  they  parted  in  the  grounds  of  Chats  worth, 
with  a  long  embrace,  and  Canolles  returned  to  Glen 
Lodge,  a  new  world  seemed  to  have  dawned  for  them 
both.  Fanny  went  along  with  steps  almost  bounding  j 
the  face  of  the  gracious  creature  was  full  of  child-like 
joy;  and  the  countenance  of  Canolles  had  undergone 
a  transformation  even  more  remarkable.  The  haunt- 
ing sorrow  of  brow  and  lips  had  been  swept  away,  as 
the  shadow  of  a  cloud  is  swept  from  the  landscape  by 
the  winds  of  August ;  and  the  partisan  went  on  with  a 
rapid  step,  his  head  erect,  his  cheeks  glowing,  his 
whole  frame  instinct  as  it  were  with  a  new  life. 

He  had  just  reached  and  entered  Glen  Lodge,  on 
which  the  shadows  of  night  were  descending,  when 
his  ear  caught  the  swift  gallop  of  a  horse. 

The  gallop  drew  nearer;  a  horseman  appeared  at  the 
edge  of  the  opening  in  front  of  the  lodge  ;  reached  the 
grass  plat,  threw  himself  to  the  ground,  and  Canolles 
recognized  Walter  Hayfield. 

The  boy  was  pale,  agitated,  and  so  faint  that  he  tot- 
tered as  his  feet  reached  the  ground. 

"  Walter ! "  exclaimed  Canolles,  "  you  are  ill !  You 
bring  bad  news  !  What  has  happened  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  Captain  !  Lieut.  Harry  is  captured — by  Tarle- 
ton — who  swears  he  is  no  other  than  yourself,  Captain 
Canolles !  He  will  hear  no  denial — he  was  tried  by 


AT    GLEN   LODGE.  293 

drum-head  court-martial  to-day,  and  condemned  to 
death  as  a  marauder,  fighting  without  a  flag !  I  es- 
caped— they  shot  me  in  the  arm,  you  see,  as  I  got  off — 
but  it  is  nothing ! " 

Canolles  had  listened  without  a  word,  but  his  face 
had  grown  extremely  pale. 

"  He  is  condemned,  you  say  ?"  came  now  in  low 
tones  from  his  lips. 

"  To  be  shot  at  sunrise." 

"  Where  is  Tarleton's  camp?" 

"  Near  Spencer's  Ordinary,  below  the  Chickahom- 
iny." 

"  At  sunrise,  did  you  say  ?" 
'"  Yes,  Captain." 

Canolles  went  into  the  house  and  buckled  on  the 
belt  containing  his  broadsword.  Then  he  slowly  un- 
buckled it  again,  and  laid  down  the  weapon.  Then 
he  went  to  where  his  horse  was  still  ^standing  and 
mounted. 

"You  will  remain  here,"  he  said,  in  his  old  brief 
accent  of  command.  "  William  will  see  to  your 
wound.  I  can  find  Tarleton's  camp.  There  is  time 
between  this  and  sunrise." 


294  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

TEN   MINUTES    BEFORE    SUNRISE. 

The  first  red  flush  of  sunrise  had  begun  to  appear 
on  the  fringe  of  pine  hemming  in  a  glade  near  Spen- 
cer's Ordinary,  below  the  Chickahominy,  where  the 
cavalry  of  Col.  Tarleton  were  encamped. 

The  camp  was  already  astir.  The  British  and  Amer- 
ican forces  were  dangerously  near  to  each  other — the 
former  having  rapidly  retreated  to  this  locality,  and  the 
latter  having  as  rapidly  followed.  They  were  now  face 
to  face,  though  separated  from  each  other  by  an  inter- 
vening body  of  woods  which  concealed  both  com- 
mands; and  under  these  circumstances  Col.  Banastre 
Tarleton,  who  was  an  excellent  cavalry  commander, 
was  all  eyes  and  ears,  and  had  his  men  ready  to  mount 
at  a  moment's  notice. 

There  was  evidently,  however,  an  additional  source 
of  interest,  not  to  say  excitement,  in  the  camp.  In 
front  of  Tarleton's  tent  a  file  of  men  were  drawn  up, 
each  grasping  his  carbine,  and  two  or  three  staff  ofiicers 
were  standing  at  the  opening  of  the  tent,  looking  at 
and  listening  apparently  to  something  which  was  going 
on  there. 

The  scene  which  absorbed  their  attention  was  a  sin- 
gular one.  Lolling  on  a  camp  couch,  and  moving  his 
spurred  boot  backward  and  forward  so  that  at  each 


TEX    MINUTES    BEFORE    SUNRISE.  295 

movement  the  rowel  tore  a  fresh  hole  in  the  cavalry 
blanket  spread  on  the  couch,  Col.  Tarleton,  swarthy, 
thick-set,  stern  and  forbidding,  was  looking  with  ill- 
dissembled  anger  at  another  person  standing  erect 
before  him. 

This  person  was  Harry  Cartaret,  who  after  a  desper- 
ate resistance,  had  been  overpowered  and  captured  in 
the  fight  near  White  Oak  Swamp,  together  with  a  few 
of  his  men.  The  result  of  this  capture  we  have  heard 
stated  by  Walter  Hayfield.  Deceived  by  the  remark- 
able likeness  of  the  young  man  to  Canolles,  by  his 
fatigue  uniform  without  insignia,  and  by  the  fact  that 
he  was  in  command  of  the  Rough  Riders,  Tarleton  had 
remained  obstinately  convinced  that  he  had  captured 
the  veritable  Canolles,  his  personal  foe,  who  had  struck 
him  so  heavily  near  Chats  worth  ;  and  in  spite  of  the 
young  man's  statement  that  he  was  not  Canolles,  but 
Lieutenant  Cartaret,  of  the  American  army,  had 
hastily  tried  him,  the  improvised  Court  had  found  him 
guilty  of  marauding  without  a  flag,  and  he  had  been 
condemned  to  be  shot  at  sunrise  on  this  morning. 

Harry  Cartaret's  attitude  was  erect,  calm  and  proud. 
There  was  no  trace  of  apprehension  at  his  approaching 
fate  in  eye  or  lip.  The  constitutional  courage  of 
the  Cartarets  evidently  defied  the  idea  of  death  to 
shake  it,  and  the  brief  colloquy  which  now  ensued 
clearly  indicated  that  the  young  American  did  not 
mean  to  plead  for  his  life. 

"  You  requested  to  see  me?"  said  Tarleton,  curtly. 

"  Yes,"  said  Cartaret. 

"  Well,  I  have  little  time  to  give  to  interviews ;  the 
enemy  are  within  half  a  mile." 


296  CANOLLES. 

"  "What  I  have  to  say  will  not  consume  ten  minutes," 
was  the  calm  reply  of  the  young  officer,  "  an  amount 
of  time  which  I  presume  may  be  allowed  a  man  who  is 
about  to  be  shot,  sir." 

"  Yes,  I  allow  you  ten  minutes." 

He  took  out  his  timepiece  and  looked  at  it. 

"  You  are  entitled  to  as  much  as  that,"  he  added, 
grimly,  "  as  it  is  just  ten  minutes  to  sunrise." 

"When  I  am  to  be  shot.  Well,  sir,  so  be  it.  A 
soldier  ought  not  to  shrink  before  bullets  for  the  pain 
of  death  they  inflict — he  takes  that  risk  on  the  field  and 
everywhere;  and  you  may  see  I  do  not  myself  shrink." 

"  You  do  not — you  are  brave  enough.  That  is  not 
where  your  fault  lies.  It  lies  in  fighting  for  money, 
and  robbing — " 

"Not  in  attacking  and  defeating  Col.  Tarleton,  since 
I  am  Capt.  Canolles,  you  say." 

At  the  slight  disdain  of  the  young  man's  tone  Tarle- 
ton's  brow  darkened  more  than  ever. 

"You  are  in  a  position  which  gives  you  the  right  to 
say  what  you  please,"  he  said  ;  "  I  cannot  bandy  words 
with  a  man  who  will  be  dead  in  an  hour." 

"  In  ten  minutes,  probably,  or  less,"  was  the  calm 
reply,  "and  I  have  no  desire  to  bandy  words.  I  have 
assured  you  that  I  am  not  Capt.  Canolles,  and  you  do 
not  believe  me.  You  assemble  a  drum-head  court, 
which  goes  through  the  form  of  a  trial,  and  condemns 
me  well-nigh  without  a  hearing.  I  am  to  be  shot, 
though  I  am  Lieutenant  Henry  Cartaret,  of  the  Amer- 
ican cavalry.  Well,  sir,  nothing  is  left  me  but  to  bear 
my  fate  like  a  soldier,  leaving  you  to  discover  some 


TEN    MINUTES    BEFORE    SUNRISE.  297 

day,  and  I  trust,  sir,  to  lament  my  fate — my  murder 
you  will  then  call  it.  I  requested  this  interview  not  to 
beg  for  my  life,  but  to  ask  what  I  have  the  right  to  ask, 
even  if  I  were  a  marauder,  as  you  style  me." 

"What?  I  decline  further  discussion  of  the  question 
of  identity.  ~No  sane  human  being  can  doubt  that  you 
are  Capt.  Canolles.  Every  man  in  the  troop  you 
attacked  near  Chats  worth  swears  to  your  identity. 
When  captured  you  were  in  command  of  your  Rough 
Riders.  You  deny  your  own  identity,  but  the  thing  is 
absurd.  Your  career  has  been  such  that  it  is  necessary 
to  make  an  example  of  you,  as  Gen.  Phillips  attempted 
to  do  at  Petersburg,  from  which  you  escaped.  You 
were  fairly  tried,  you  are  justly  condemned.  The 
time  has  passed  to  discuss  that  further.  What  is  your 
request?" 

"  That  you  will  sent  into  the  American  lines  these 
letters." 

The  young,  officer  took  from  his  breast  two  letters, 
both  unsealed. 

"  For  whom  are  these  letters?"  said  Tarleton. 

"  One  is  addressed  to  a  young  lady  who  at  the  present 
time  is  on  a  visit  to  Miss  Talbot,  of  Chatsworth.  If  I 
am  not  mistaken,  you  have  seen  her." 

"  I  have  seen  the  ladies  at  the  place  you  mention, 
and  remember  that  one  of  them  exhibited  very  little 
breeding." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  They  belong  to  what  people  some- 
times laugh  at  us  for  calling  our  Virginia  aristocracy, 
and  I  had  supposed  that  even  Col.  Tarleton  would  not 
mistake  their  position  in  society." 


298  CANOLLES. 

"I  said  nothing  about  their  position  in  society,'7  was 
the  gruff  reply  of  the  English  officer.  "I  said  that  I 
was  treated  discourteously.  But  we  are  losing  time. 
If  your  letters  are  unsealed  I  will  send  them.  To 
whom  is  the  second  ? " 

"  To  Capt.  Canolles." 

"To  Canolles!" 

"  Yes." 

"  This  is  a  farce,  sir,"  said  Tarleton,  frowning,  "and 
you  show  singular  bad  taste  in  spending  your  last 
moments  of  life  in  enacting  a  comedy,  since  you  your- 
self are  Canolles  !  " 

"  So  be  it ;  but  you  have  promised  to  forward  my 
letter,  which  you  may  see  is  directed  to  '  Capt.  Can- 
olles, Glen  Lodge,  near  Chats  worth.3  ' 

"I  will  read  both  and  send  them." 

"  You  will  not  forego  the  reading,  then — even  that  to 
Miss  Maurice?  I  confess  I  should  like  to  have  that 
remain  unread." 

"  Impossible.      War   is   a   risky    business,   sir.     A 
sealed  letter  might  give  the  enemy  a  full  diagram  of* 
the  English  position  and  amount  of  force." 

Cartaret  sighed. 

"  I  must  yield,  then — and  I  prefer  to  have  the  letter 
sent  open  than  not  sent  at  all." 

He  laid  both  on  the  table,  and  added  : 

"  I  am  now  at  your  service,  sir.  I  have  already  said 
my  prayers,  and  I  am  ready." 

Tarleton  looked  with  a  singular  expression  at  Car- 
taret. 

"You  have  given  me  reason  to  personally  hate  you." 


TEN    MINUTES    BEFORE    SUNRISE.  299 

he  said,  with  a  keen  flash  of  the  eye,  "  since  you  have 
twice  surprised  me,  and  the  last  time  defeated  me  in 
open  fight ;  but  you  are  a  brave  man  and  I  am  glad 
the  court  did  not  condemn  you  to  be  hanged  as  a  spy." 

Tarleton  rose  and  called  the  officer  of  the  guard. 

"The  prisoner  Canolles  will  be  taken,"  he  said  "to 
the  place  assigned,  bandaged,  and  shot." 

A  stir  was  visible  in  the  group  without. 

" A  moment!"  said  a  voice  at  the  opening  of  the 
tent. 

"  Who  is  that?"  said  Tarleton. 

"  Captain  Canolles,"  was  the  reply. 

And  the  partisan  came  into  the  tent. 


300  CANOLLES. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE    BBOTHEKS. 

The  first  rays  of  sunrise  fell  upon  the  figure  of  Ca- 
nolles, standing  unarmed  and  perfectly  quiet  in  the 
opening  of  the  tent.  Tarleton,  looking  at  him,  gave 
an  unmistakable  start.  The  extraordinary  resemblance 
which  the  partisan  bore  to  Cartaret  evidently  aroused 
in  him  the  greatest  astonishment. 

"  Canolles ! "  he  exclaimed ;  "  so  I  was  about  to  shoot 
the  wrong  person." 

"  Yes,"  said  Canolles,  calmly;  "  and  I  will  do  you 
the  justice,  sir,  to  say  that  I  think  you  would  have 
regretted  it.  You  have  the  reputation  of  cruelty  and 
an  unscrupulous  mode  of  warfare,  but  it  is  hard  to 
regard  an  English  officer  and  gentleman  as  a  cold- 
blooded barbarian." 

"  You  are  right,  sir,"  said  Tarleton,  scarcely  recov- 
ered from  his  astonishment ;  "so  you  are  the  real 
Capt.  Canolles?  May  I  ask  how  you  came  to  be 
here  ? " 

"  I  came  to  save  the  life  of  my  brother,  who  was 
about  to  be  shot  from  his  likeness  to  myself." 

"Your  brother?" 

"Yes;  this  gentleman  is  my  brother,  Lieutenant 
Henry  Cartaret,  of  the  American  army." 

"  And  you—" 

"  Capt.  Canolles,  at  your  service,"  was  the  calm 
reply. 


THE    BROTHERS.  301 

The  appearance,  expression,  attitude  of  the  partisan 
were  all  perfectly  cool  and  composed.  Natures  like 
that  of  the  man  whom  we  have  essayed  to  delineate 
under  the  name  of  Canolles  have  this  predominant 
trait — that  when  impelled  by  the  dictates  of  feeling  or 
duty  to  adopt  any  course,  however  perilous — nay, 
fatal — they  banish,  from  that  moment,  all  nervous 
emotion,  face  the  fate  before  them  calmly,  and  die,  if 
they  are  forced  to  die,  like  brave  men. 

Tarleton  looked  for  some  moments  fixedly  at  the 
speaker ;  then  he  said  : 

"  How  happens  it  that  you  are  here  ?  Were  you 
captured  ? " 

"  I  was  not.     I  surrendered  myself.     I  had  informa- 
tion of  the  capture  of  my  brother,  of  his  trial  and  the 
fate  before  him,  owing  to  his  resemblance  to  myself, 
and  I  came  to  take  his  place.     Is  that  so  astonishing, 
sir  ?     I  do  not  know  how  it  is  in  your  country,  but  in 
Virginia  we  keep  our  faith  of  gentlemen,  and  do  not 
allow  innocent  blood  to  be  shed  when  it  is  our  own 
that  is  forfeited — certainly  not  the  blood  of  a  brother." 
"You  are  right,  sir,"  was   Tarleton's  reply,  with  a 
flash  of  the  eye  at  Canolles  not  devoid  of  ste"rn  admira- 
tion ;  "  you  are  a  soldier  and  a  brave  man." 
He  turned  to  an  officer  and  said : 
"  The  execution  is  suspended.     March  the  men  to 
quarters  and  keep  Lieut.  Cartaret  under  guard.     You 
will  then  summon  a  court  to  examine  into  the  case  of 
Capt.  Canolles." 

Harry  Cartaret  was  standing  near  the  opening  of  the 
tent,  trembling  from  head  to  foot.     All  the  coolness 


302  CANOLLES. 

with  which  he  had  faced  impending  death  had  deserted 
him.  His  face  was  pale,  his  eyes  swollen  by  tears,  and 
his  breath  came  in  gasps.  As  the  order  was  given  that 
he  should  be  conducted  away,  he  suddenly  turned  as 
though  under  a  passionate  impulse,  and  threw  his  arms 
around  Canolles." 

"  Oh  !  'brother  !  brother !  why  did  you  come  here?" 
he  cried  :  "  why  not  let  them  shoot  me  ? — I  am  worth 
nothing  ! — and  you  are  the  head  of  the  house  ! " 

He  sobbed  like  a  child,  burying  his  face  in  the  breast 
of  Canolles.  The  partisan  seemed  to  share  his  emo- 
tion ;  when  he  spoke,  his  voice  was  brief  and  husky. 

"  I  came  because  I  bear  the  name  you  bear,  Harry, 
and  because  it  is  my  blood,  not  yours,  that  these  people 
want;  and  I  do  not  wish  my  brother  to  die  for  me  ?" 

He  held  the  young  man  close  in  his  arms,  and,  bend- 
ing down,  placed  his  lips  as  tenderly  as  a  father  might 
have  done,  on  his  brother's  forehead.  A  moment 
afterward  Harry  Cartaret,  shaking  from  head  to  foot, 
and  uttering  sobs,  was  conducted  away. 

"  Now  for  our  business,  Colonel,"  said  Canolles  to 
Tarleton. 


THE    BROTHERS.  303 


CHAPTER  XXY. 

THE    SENTENCE. 

Col.  Tarleton,  leaning  back  upon  his  camp  couch, 
looked  at  Canolles  with  the  same  expression  of  stern 
admiration.  Compelled  by  the  exigencies  of  our  nar- 
rative to  exhibit  only  the  harsher  traits  of  this  well- 
known  personage,  we  have  not  dwelt  upon  certain 
phases  of  his  character  redeeming  it  from  entire  con- 
demnation. Col.  Banastre  Tarleton,  who  had  proved 
himself  the  scourge  of  the  Carolinas,  burning  and  lay- 
ing waste  the  whole  land,  was  popular  at  his  home  in  En- 
gland, a  gentleman  by  birth  and  breeding,  if  curt  and 
brusque  in  manners,  and  had  a  soldier's  admiration  for, 
and  sympathy  with,  the  cool  courage  which  faces  death 
unmoved.  Looking  now,  as  we  have  said,  at  the  calm 
figure  of  the  partisan,  this  sympathy  was  obvious  in  the 
expression  of  his  countenance,  and  he  said  slowly : 

"  So  you  have  come  to  die  in  place  of  your 
brother?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Canolles. 

"  I  repeat  that  your  act  is  that  of  a  brave  man  ;  that 
you  were  a  true  soldier  I  knew — for  I  have  felt  the 
weight  of  your  hand.  You  followed  me  step  by  step, 
did  you  not,  before  that  fight  near  the  Chatsworth 
House  ? " 

"Yes." 

"  The  thing  was  excellently  managed,  sir.     Pity  that 


304  CANOLLES. 

a  genius  for  war  such  as  you  possess  should  not  have  a 
fair  field,  and  that  you  persist  in  this  discreditable — 
excuse  the  word — I  will  say  injudicious  habit  of  fight- 
ing without  a  flag  or  commission." 

"  I  have  both." 

"  Ah !  Exhibit  them  !  "  said  Tarleton,  starting  up. 
"  You  have  a  flag — a  commission  !  Glad  of  it —  I  ask 
nothing  better  than  to  have  some  warrant  for  not  treat- 
ing you  as  a  common  freebooter,  as  you  are  aware  un- 
der other  circumstances  I  must." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Your  commission  first." 

Canolles  drew  from  his  breast  the  commission  sent 
to  him  by  Gov.  Nelson.  As  Tarleton  unfolded  it,  a 
small  silken  flag  on  which  was  painted  the  Virginian 
coat  of  arms — a  virgin  trampling  upon  a  tyrant — fell 
from  it. 

"You  have  there  my  commission  and  my  flag," 
Canolles  said  coolly.  Tarleton  ran  his  eye  over  the 
commission,  let  the  hand  holding  it  fall  at  his  side,  and 
looked  for  some  moments  with  knit  brow  upon  the 
ground. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  at  length  said,  "  this  paper  will 
avail  you  nothing  with  the  Court  who  will  examine 
your  case.  The  question  is  a  nice  one,  doubtless,  but 
the  letter  of  military  law  is  against  you,  since  the 
offenses  you  are  charged  with  were  committed  prior  to 
the  date  of  this  commission — even  conceding  that  it  be 
a  valid  commission." 

"  I  am  aware  that  I  have  little  or  nothing  to  expect 
from  it,"  returned  Canolles,  "  and  only  exhibited  it  at 
your  request." 


THE    SKNTENrK.  305 

He  took  the  paper  from  Tarleton,  picked  up  the  flag, 
and  returned  both  to  his  breast. 

"  I  will  die  with  these  on  my  person,"  he  said. 

Again  Tarleton  knit  his  brows. 

"  I  swear  I  regret  this  whole  business,"  he  said,  "  and 
if  I  had  known  you  were  the  man  you  are,  I  would 
never  have  attacked  you  with  a  view  to  your  capture. 
Even  now — but  the  wish  is  idle !  The  Court  is  sum- 
moned— there  is  my  officer  of  the  day  coming,  paper 
in  hand,  to  report  that  they  are  assembled." 

Canolles  inclined  his  head,  making  no  reply. 

Tarleton  was  correct  in  his  supposition.  An  officer 
entered  and  reported  that  the  Court  to  examine  into 
the  case  of  Capt.  Canolles  was  waiting. 

Tarleton  rose  and  said  with  the  same  expression  of 
stern  sympathy  on  his  swarthy  face  : 

"  Make  your  defense  as  able  as  possible.  I  leave  all 
to  the  Court." 

Canolles  made  the  same  movement  of  the  head,  and 
said  calmly : 

"  I  shall  do  so.  To  be  frank,  I  have  a  desire  to  live 
at  present." 

He  was  then  conducted  from  the  tent  under  guard. 
*  *  #  #  *  *  * 

Two  hours  afterward  Col.  Tarleton,  who  seemed  to 
be  laboring  under  unwonted  emotion,  and  sat  with  his 
brows  knit  and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground,  was 
aroused  from  his  moody  abstraction  by  the  entrance  of 
the  officer  of  the  day. 

"  The  finding  of  the  Court  in  the  case  of  Capt.  Ca- 
nolles, Colonel,"  said  the  officer. 
20 


306  CANOLLES. 

Tarleton  snatched  the  paper  so  abruptly  from  the 
officer's  hand  that  he  nearly  tore  it  asunder.  It  con- 
tained these  words : 

"  The  Court  assembled  to  examine  into  the  charges 
against  Capt.  Canolles  find  as  follows :  That  Capt. 
Canolles  having  made  war  on  his  Majesty  without  war- 
rant or  commission,  except  a  paper  of  recent  date, 
purporting  to  be  signed  by  a  Mr.  Nelson,  calling  him- 
self Governor  of  Virginia;  and  the  said  Capt.  Ca- 
nolles having  been  shown  to  have  robbed  the  convoys 
of  his  Majesty  in  the  night  time  without  a  flag,  the 
Court  is  unanimously  of  the  opinion  that  he  ought  to 
suffer  death." 

Tarleton  allowed  his  hand  to  fall. 

"  Fools !  "  he  muttered ;  "  the  man  is  a  soldier,  and 
made  war  like  a  soldier,  for  his  birthplace  !  " 


THE    END    OF   ALL.  307 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE    END    OF    ALL. 

Tarleton  had  scarcely  uttered  these  words  when  the 
long  roll  of  cannon  was  heard  near  at  hand,  and  he 
started  to  his  feet,  dropping  the  paper,  upon  which, 
either  by  accident  or  intention,  he  placed  his  heel, 
grinding  it  into  the  earth. 

"  Sound  the  bugle  to  horse  !  "  he  shouted. 

And  rushing  from  the  tent  he  threw  himself  on 
horseback,  nearly  overturning  as  he  did  so  the  orderly 
who  held  the  animal  by  the  bridle. 

"  To  horse !  to  horse !  "  he  shouted,  passing  at  a 
furious  gallop  through  the  camp ;  and  at  the  same  mo- 
ment the  ringing  bugles  sounded  the  same  order. 

Tarleton  did  not  wait  for  his  men,  who  were  seen  on 
all  sides  running  to  their  horses.  He  went  at  the  same 
headlong  gallop  in  the  direction  of  the  ominous  roll  of 
the  cannon.  As  he  passed  a  tent  larger  than  the  rest, 
apparently  a  guard  tent,  he  saw  Canolles  and  Harry 
Cartaret  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of  officers  at  the  open- 
ing. Passing  like  some  warlike  meteor,  Tarleton  had 
only  time  to  salute  Canolles  and  send  these  words  be- 
hind him  : 

"  Who  knows  ?  We  may  cross  swords  yet,  Captain ! " 

And  to  the  Court : 

"  Suspend  action  in  this  case  till  further  orders ! " 

As  he  spoke,  a  cannon  shot,  skimming  the  low  fol- 


308  CANOLLES. 

iage  surrounding  the  camp,  struck  the  tent  pole  fair 
and  square,  hurled  it  to  the  ground,  and  passing  on 
disemboweled  a  horse  which  one  of  the  cavalrymen 
had  just  mounted.  Man  and  horse  were  overthrown, 
and  when  two  additional  shots  whizzed  through  the 
camp  the  greatest  confusion  ensued.  On  all  sides  the 
men  hastened  to  fall  into  line,  and  still  nearer  and 
nearer  came  that  ominous  roar,  with  which  suddenly 
mingled  now  the  sharp  rattle  of  musketry  and  the 

round  of  ringing  cheers. 

*  #  *  *  *  * 

The  battle  of  Spencer's  Ordinary  was  one  of  those 
combats  which  decide  absolutely  nothing,  but  are  full 
of  the  glare  and  glory  of  war. 

Following  Cornwallis  step  by  step  as  he  retreated 
toward  the  Chesapeake,  Lafayette,  now  reinforced  by 
"  Mad  Anthony'7  Wayne  and  Baron  Steuben,  had  come 
up  with  the  English  commander  just  as  he  was  retiring 
from  Portsmouth. 

The  brief  and  hot  engagement  at  Spencer's  Ordinary 
ensued,  and  nothing  but  the  impetuous  courage,  almost 
the  audacity,  of  Wayne  saved  the  Americans  from  the 
consequences  of  an  attack  planned  by  the  enemy,  so 
to  say,  and  meant  by  them  to  result  in  Lafayette's  de- 
struction. 

Lord  Cornwallis  had  taken  up  a  strong  position, 
covered  by  a  morass  in  front  and  on  his  flanks,  through 
which  a  narrow  causeway  was  the  only  means  of  pas- 
sage. Then,  throwing  into  the  way  of  the  Americans 
a  dragoon  and  a  negro,  who  were  to  pretend  they  were 
deserters,  and  give  the  requisite  false  information,  the 
English  commander  waited, 


THE    END    OF    ALL.  309 

The  design  had  fall  success.  Lafayette  believed  that 
his  opponent's  main  force  had  crossed  the  James  River, 
leaving  behind  a  detachment  only;  and  this  detach- 
ment Wayne  was  ordered,  with  eight  hundred  men 
and  three  cannon,  to  attack. 

The  reader  has  made  the  personal  acquaintance  of 
this  gay  and  headlong  Pennsylvanian  with  the  mer- 
curial mirth  of  a  boy  and  the  nerve  of  a  veteran.  "  Mad 
Anthony"  moved  at, the  word,  Lafayette  followed  across 
the  causeway  of  the  morass,  and  suddenly  the  long 
thunder  of  artillery  began — that  thunder  which  had 
aroused  Tarleton  in  his  tent  on  the  British  left. 

Lafayette  had  meant  to  crush  the  enemy,  amounting, 
as  he  supposed,  to  a  detachment  only.  He  soon  found 
that  their  entire  army  was  in  his  front,  and  that  retreat 
or  destruction  were  the  alternatives  before  him.  The 
whole  British  army  rose  suddenly  from  the  waters  of 
the  morass,  as  it  were,  and  at  a  glance  "Mad  Anthony" 
saw  the  trap.  To  retreat  was  the  only  hope ;  but  to 
retreat  he  must  attack  first,  and  he  threw  his  eight 
hundred  men  with  impetuous  courage  on  the  English 
front. 

The  very  audacity  of  the  charge  imposed  upon  the 
enemy.  They  moved  with  caution,  thinking  the  force 
before  them  large.  This  gave  time  for  the  withdrawal 
of  the  troops.  They  retired  rapidly  across  the  morass, 
abandoning  their  guns,  and  Lord  Cornwallis,  thinking 
the  retreat  a  feint  to  draw  him  into  an  ambush,  halted. 

Thus  ended  the  battle,  the  British  army  soon  con- 
tinuing to  retreat.  It  only  connects  itself  with  the 
fortunes  of  our  personages  from  the  fact  that  both 


310  CANOLLES. 

Cauolles  and  Harry  Cartaret  made  their  escape  during 
the  confusion. 

This  escape  had  been  effected  with  far  more  ease 
than  might  have  been  supposed  possible.  The  two 
prisoners  were  mounted  on  spare  horses  to  move  with 
the  cavalry,  as  the  camp  was  instantly  broken  up ;  and 
watching  their  opportunity,  they  broke  away  from 
their  guards,  dashed  into  the  morass  pursued  by  shots, 
and  reached  the  American  lines  just  as  they  were 
retiring. 

Getting  a  superb  horse  in  front  of  his  line,  drawn 
up'to  cover  the  retreat  of  Wayne,  the  young  Marquis 
Lafayette,  wearing  his  brilliant  Major-General's  uni- 
form, with  the  decoration  on  the  breast,  awaited  with 
glowing  face  the  expected  counter  attack  of  the 
British. 

Wayne's  war-thinned  battalions  slowly  fell  back, 
emerging  from  the  morass,  and  their  commander 
galloped  up  to  Lafayette. 

"  A  real  trap,  my  dear  General ! "  cried  the  gay  and 
impetuous  Pennsylvanian,  saluting  gallantly  with  his 
broadsword,  and  laughing  as  he  spoke. 

"  A  guet-a-pens,  indeed,  my  dear  M.  L'Insense! — my 
brave  Mad  Anthony !  But  you  emerge — you  were  not 
caught!  And  listen  to  this — they  are  not  about  to 
attack.  You  make  them  afraid." 

"  Yes!  There  is  one  thing  only  I  regret — the  loss 
of  my  guns  !  Give  me  the  order  and  I'll  go  back  and 
recapture  them  ! " 

"  No,  I  will  not  do  that !  You  would  not  retake 
them— shall  I  tell  you  what  you  would  do,  mon  ami?" 

"  Tell  me." 


THE    END    OF    ALL.     .  311 

"  You  would  die  at  the  head  of  your  column,  as  you 
wished  to  do  at  Stony  Point." 

And  with  these  words,  which  sent  a  thrill  of  sol- 
dierly joy  through  the  heart  of  Wayne,  Lafayette 
wheeled  his  horse,  when  suddenly  he  found  himself 
face  to  face  with  Cartaret  and  Canolles. 

"  You !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You,  my  brave  Cartaret 
— escaped  and  safe  ! " 

"  Myself,  General/'  replied  the  young  officer,  "  and 
this  is  my  brother,  whom  you  know  as  Capt.  Canolles." 

"  Canolles ! "  exclaimed  Lafayette,  spurring  forward 
and  grasping  the  hand  of  the  partisan.  "  The  brave 
of  braves!  the  hard  rider  and  fighter  of  the  Swamps!" 

"  At  your  service,  General,"  was  the  partisan's  reply. 

"  Au!  mon  cher.Capitaine,  my  brave  Cartaret  has  told 
me  of  you — it  was  not  so  necessary.  It  goes  without 
saying  I  knew  you  were  un  brave !  " 

And  raising  his  plumed  hat  with  all  the  grace  of  his 
nation,  the  Marquis  Lafayette  saluted  Canolles  before 
the  eyes  of  the  whole  army. 


CANOLLES. 


EPILOGUE. 

Need  we  lengthen  out  our  chronicle?  You  can  see, 
can  you  not,  good  reader,  that  everybody  was  married ; 
that  the  war  brought  peace  and  happiness,  and  the 
land  reposed — that  repose  came  to  the  hearts  and  lives, 
too,  of  our  personages  tried  by  so  many  strange  vicis- 
situdes? 

A  few  words  only  are  necessary  in  terminating  our 
narrative. 

Miss  Lucy  Maurice  was  married  to  Lieut.  Harry 
Cartaret,  and  Miss  Eleanor  Talbot,  soon  after  the  war, 
to  Lieut.  Tom  Ferrers.  It  is,  we  trust,  unnecessary  to 
add  that  Miss  Fanny  Talbot  espoused  a  certain  Capt. 
Canolles,  ex-bandit  and  marauder. 

The  partisan,  now  the  most  peaceful  of  citizens,  re- 
fused to  take  back  Chatsworth  from  his  dear  Harry, 
declaring  that  the  management  of  so  large  an  estate 
would  prove  a  weariness  to  him ;  and  he  and  Fanny 
went  to  live  at  the  little  chalet  of  Glen  Lodge,  where 
they  were  regularly  visited  by  "Walter  Hayfield  and  his 
young  wife. 

And  one  day  in  the  month  of  April,  1782,  there  ap- 
peared at  the  gate  of  the  sylvan  lodge  a  familiar  face — 
a  tall,  white-mustached  individual,  accompanied  by  a 
French  nobleman  and  servants,  on  a  tour  to  the  moun- 
tains. 

"Who  lives  here?"  the  white  mustache  demanded 
in  a  gruff  voice,  from  his  post  on  horseback,  Then  as 


EPILOGUE.  313 

he  saw  a  figure  appear  at  the  door  of  the  woodland 
lodge,  he  burst  forth  into  laughter,  profanity  and  de- 
light. 

That  night,  Lord  Ferrers,  the  Marquis  de  Chastellux 
and  Canolles  sat  up  late.  The  long  hours  passed  like 
moments,  and  Lord  Ferrers  seemed  to  revel  in  gay 
recollections. 

"  What  was  better  than  all,  Canolles,  was  that  night 
in  the  Swamp!"  he  exclaimed.  "What  wine!  what 
wit — and  to  think  that  I  have  just  been  supping  again 
with  you,  old  boy!" 

He  raised  his  glass. 

"  Do  you  remember  a  toast  I  drank  that  night  in  the 
Swamp  ? " 

"Tell  me  what  it  was,  my  dear  Colonel,"  said  his 
host,  laughing. 

"  It  is  useless  to  tell  you,  as  I  mean  to  drink  it 
again ! " 

And,  with  glass  raised  high  above  his  head,  and 
ruddy,  martial,  beaming  face,  the  brave  old  militcdre 
exclaimed : 

"  A  health  to  the  robber  and  marauder  of  the  Swamp 
— CANOLLES  ! '? 


We  s7ia.ll  pizblisTt  about 


SONGS  FOR  GOLD  LOCKS 


BY 

CLARA  DOTY  BATES. 

ILLUSTRATED  BY 

CHARLOTTE  DOTY  FINLEY. 


The  popularity  that  these  ladies  have  obtained  through 
their  contributions  to  the  NURSERY,  WIDE  AWAKE,  ST. 
NICHOLAS,  and  other  illustrated  periodicals,  will  be  greatly 
increased  by  this  fresh  volume.  The  drawings  are  original, 
and  full  of  life  and  beauty.  We  prophesy  for  it  a  large 

demand. 

E.  B.  SMITH  &  CO. 


985798 


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